


The Wager

by SootyBear



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:13:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SootyBear/pseuds/SootyBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lad, I have known your uncle all of my life. We've done everything together. Hunting, fighting, drinking... and if there is one thing that is really good about being Thorin Oakenshield's best friend it's this – Thorin never gets the girl." In which an unexpected travelling companion becomes the subject of a bet among the company of Thorin Oakenshield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic of any sort. It's just meant to be a bit of fun but I would like to know what you think of it. Also posted on Fanfiction.Net.

PROLOGUE

Thorin noticed the woman shiver. Her thin dress, soaked by the sudden downpour, clung around her legs and she clutched her damp shawl more closely to her. She was cold. Without thinking he pulled off his coat and threw it roughly towards her.

 

“Do not get a chill” he barked. “A sick woman is all we need”. He made to move away, then noticed the gleam of anger in her eyes as she stared pointedly at him. Confused, he turned on his heel. “We move on,” he commanded, talking to no-one in particular, staring at her over his shoulder, “we’ve wasted enough time already”.  The company trudged forward with a few muttered grumbles. The Halfling started to complain more vociferously, about ‘just for once stopping for a rest’ and ‘having a nice warm fire’ and ‘dry clothes’. Thorin fixed him with a glare. “Would you have us exposed to all and sundry, Mr Baggins?” he rasped. He was about to point out the many, many dangers that could befall them now or at any point on their quest, but Fili and Kili seemed to find something very amusing about the word ‘exposed’. Glaring at them, Thorin mounted his pony, and made for the head of the group. The hobbit reddened and fell silent, a silence that remained with the company for the rest of the day, as the rain fell again, driving into their faces, and the ground grew heavier beneath their ponies’ feet.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Later that night, as the company huddled by the camp fire, Thorin pondered the two strangers as he sat a little to the side with Balin and Dwalin.

 

“I do not understand the Halfling” he mused. “He whines at the slightest thing. I knew he would be a burden.”

 

“He’s just not used to this, that’s all”, said Dwalin. “I’ve known you to whine many a time, when it’s cold and wet”.

 

“It’s bad for morale”, Thorin grumbled, slightly mollified. “As for the woman…” he trailed off, and the two brothers looked at him sharply, suddenly more interested.

 

“Yes?” prompted Balin, when Thorin did not continue. Thorin sighed.

 

“I gave her my coat to warm her up and she looked at me like I had done her harm.”

 

“You threw it at her and shouted” Balin pointed out.

 

“I was perfectly civil”, huffed Thorin. Dwalin snorted at this, and Thorin cocked an eye. The bluff warrior smirked.

 

“Your way with women is legendary”

 

“This is not about me having”…he started again, “My way with women... I mean…I was simply…” He smiled wryly as both brothers chortled at the unintended pun. “You know what I meant”.

 

“I know I’d like to have MY way with her” Dwalin volunteered, a low chuckle lacing his words. “Those titties in that wet dress…”

 

“Brother”. Balin’s tone was sharp. Thorin simply stared, mouth agog.

 

“Oh, don’t say it hasn’t crossed your mind, you old goat. Aye, and that of every dwarf in the company- including you my lord king”, Dwalin replied with a leer, adding in a less enthusiastic tone, “That’s why we shouldn’t have a woman travelling with us.”

 

“I couldn’t agree more, my friend” intoned Thorin, glad at the direction the conversation was taking, “but what else could I have done? To leave her with those men at Bree would have been …dishonourable”.

 

“Aye. But what do we do with her now?” All three fell silent for a moment, looking over to where the woman sat with the hobbit, a little way from the rest of the company, talking in low whispers and both looking miserable.

 

“It’s my belief that the wizard intends us to go to Imladris” Balin began to say, swiftly interrupted by Thorin’s snarled “Over my dead body” and Dwalin’s snorted “No doubt he could arrange that for you, Thorin”

 

“ _As I was saying_ , he intends to go to the elves, and we should let him,” continued Balin. “He can take Miss Anna with him, and we’ll press on. You know he never intended to stay with us for the whole quest”.

 

“Good riddance, I say” Thorin snapped in a surly tone, “and he can take the Halfling with him too. Why I ever agreed to that, I do not know.”

 

“Mr Baggins is not so bad if you take the trouble to talk to him. Most of the lads like him; and they like the lassie too.”

 

“I thought we’d already established that”, put in Dwalin; he and Thorin exchanged glances, then giggled.

 

“Aye, well, if that’s what you think, maybe you should try talking to her”. These two had been exasperating him for over a century. He gave Thorin a pointed look.

 

“Me? I do talk to her!”

 

“No you, don’t Thorin. You shout. You’ve never known how to talk to women.”

 

“Like I said, legendary…”

 

“Why are you so keen for me to talk to her? Besides, I think it’s too late for me to start now.” Thorin knew that finding a consort for his king was a plan dear to the old dwarf’s heart; he also knew that he was accustomed to his bachelor status. It was Thorin’s turn to be exasperated.

 

At that, Gloin joined them with a question about the next day’s travel, and the matter was dropped.

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

 

Anna and Bilbo sat miserably by themselves, away from the dwarves and the fire, Anna still wearing Thorin’s coat. The question under discussion was how to return it. Had it belonged to any other dwarf (with the possible exception of Dwalin) it would have been a simple matter. It would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to walk over to the rightful owner, thank them genuinely for their kindness and perhaps exchange a few polite lines of conversation. The thought of approaching Thorin, sat in all his haughtiness, flanked by the fearsome Dwalin, filled them with dread; both had been on the end of some fairly sharp comments from the leader and his henchman in the few days they had been travelling together.

 

“Perhaps if you do it quickly, and don’t make eye contact” Bilbo suggested tentatively.

 

Anna shook her head vigorously. “I wouldn’t know what to say. He’ll shout at me again”

 

“Just say thank you”

 

“What if he says something back?”

 

Bilbo seemed nonplussed. “At least Balin’s with him”. The elder statesman had always been kind to them both.

 

“So is Dwalin”.

 

Bilbo fell silent, seemed to hesitate and then, somewhat reluctantly offered “I suppose I could take it for you…”

 

“No. he doesn’t like you anymore than he likes me.”

 

“Less, I’d say”

 

“Then I must do it myself” said Anna, making no attempt to get up and go over to the dwarf king. She added, “You know, in anyone else it would’ve seemed like a kindness, but he…Thorin… just has this way of making you feel…”

 

“I know.”

 

“It was as though it was my fault I got wet in the rain. I almost shouted back at him; then thought better of it, obviously.”

 

“Obviously” agreed Bilbo.

 

“And yet it was a kind thing to do, or it would’ve been if it wasn’t Thorin. I doubt he’s ever done a kind thing in his life” she added cattily.

 

“I’m sure that’s not true” Bilbo replied, without an ounce of conviction in his voice. A burst of laughter erupted from the king and his friend. Anna and Bilbo shot them a glance of alarm, wondering what manner of horrible thing could elicit a chuckle from two such fierce warriors.  They both sighed and then Anna seemed to steel herself.

 

 “Right. It has to be done. I can’t keep his coat forever.” Rising suddenly, as if to give herself no time to think better of it, Anna stood up and strode across the camp, confidently at first, her steps faltering as she drew close to the forbidding form of Thorin Oakenshield.

 

He and the others had been joined by Gloin, one of the least friendly of the company. Great, thought Anna, but there was no way she could turn back now. All four fell silent and lifted their heads sharply at her coming. There was a moment’s uncomfortable silence. Anna cleared her throat, and then tried to speak. Nothing came out.

 

Thorin frowned. “Yes?” he said imperiously.

 

She shrugged off the coat and handed it to him wordlessly, then, squeaked “Er, I just wanted to return this and say thank you. It was very kind of you.” More silence, then it was Thorin’s turn to clear his throat.

 

“If you caught a cold it would slow us down”.

 

“Legendary…” laughed Dwalin, to Thorin’s right. Balin shot him a glare.

 

“Well, um, like I said, thanks”, Anna turned and fled back to the safety of Bilbo.

 

“Dwalin!” hissed Thorin and Balin in unison. The big dwarf just roared in laughter. From the other side of the camp Anna blushed and Bilbo shuddered.

 

“What’s this all about?” asked Gloin, and then getting no answer from anyone, changed tack. “Did you see those tits when her dress got wet?”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We actually get to the wager in this chapter. Please read and review!

HAPTER TWO

Thorin didn't think about the woman the next day, because she spent most of the day with the Halfling, and Thorin just couldn't abide his fussiness and whining. He hadn't wanted to bring the Hobbit along from the very first time that Gandalf has suggested it. She was just some stranger, a woman of man, looking for someone to escort her from Bree to the foothills of the Misty Mountains. He wouldn't normally have entertained the idea, but he was expecting no trouble, and he hadn't liked the look of a couple of rangers who had offered. It was too late for regrets now, and he would think no more about them.

Besides, Fili and Kili seemed to be talking to them when the camp rose at first light to break fast, and then when they began the days' journey she appeared to be locked deep in conversation with Ori. Thorin wondered if the young scribe had also noticed her…he swallowed hard…chest. Gloin's words last night had shocked him, as Gloin normally had no eyes for anyone but his wife, a fine and noble dwarrowdam with who half of Ered Luin had been in love, before she settled for a distant cousin of its reticent prince.

He could have made the effort to speak to her when they stopped for a brief respite an hour or so after noon, but for some reason Bofur had grabbed the attention of their strange companions, no doubt telling one of his dubious stories. Even Bifur joined in at one point.

Thorin bristled when he felt Dwalin disappear from his place besides his king, and spotted him drawing alongside her piebald pony. The bald dwarf apparently had no trouble addressing several remarks at her, some of which seemed to elicit a nervous laugh. Thorin felt his eyebrows almost touching his hairline when Dori and Nori, of all dwarves, helped her and the burglar down from their mounts, chattering away like birds at dawn. Then she was dragged into helping prepare supper by Bombur, who had soon noticed the hobbit's talent at cooking and took full advantage of it.

Indignantly Thorin wondered if he should inform Balin and Oin that they hadn't had their turn in talking to the woman yet. Was he the only one who was not somehow obsessed with her?

* * *

First it was Fili and Kili, solicitously asking her if she was _quite dried out_ from the previous evening, and assuring her that if she was ever to get soaked through again she had only to say and they would be more than happy to help her dry off. She thanked them kindly for their concern, puzzled by their smirks and sideways glances at each other, which seemed to belie their words.

Then it was Ori, explaining how Dori always made sure that he wore layers, and how this might help to avoid embarrassment. Anna glanced at Bilbo quizzically, as the shy dwarf rode away. Bilbo shrugged.

As they stopped for a mid-day rest (always standing up and never for long- Thorin like to move at a cracking pace), Bofur started to regale her with what she feared might be a bawdy tale, about a well-built dwarrowdam back in the Blue Mountains, who had once fallen into a river and emerged from the water with her clothes soaking, so that everyone could – but at that point Bifur started having some kind of fit, or perhaps he was just talking in that strange language of his, and Bofur suddenly reddened and turned away.

In the afternoon an awful thing happened. As she and Bilbo were exchanging stories of childhood accidents and laughing, Dwalin loomed up alongside them, causing them to both fall silent and cast their eyes downward.

"You alright lass?" he boomed, completely ignoring Bilbo.

Anna swallowed, uncomfortably, just managing to say. "Yes".

"You got wet yesterday."

"Yes"

Silence hung between the three of them like a bad smell.

"You need to be more careful" the big dwarf piped up again. He cast a terrifying grin at her. "You never know what might happen." At this he let out a roar of laughter, to which Anna and Bilbo responded with nervous titters, and then he was gone.

"My, you're popular all of a sudden", said Bilbo.

"I can't think why. So, I got wet yesterday – didn't everyone?"

"I know I did" grumbled Bilbo, "and no-one seems to care about that. Perhaps it's because you're a girl."

"I don't think they've even noticed" she replied, in the bliss of ignorance.

"You know, it's funny…"Bilbo started to say something, and then seemed to stop himself.

"Go on," Anna encouraged.

"We-ll, it occurs to me that…"

"Yes?"

"Despite the fact that they all seem concerned today that you got soaked yesterday…"

"Aha?"

"It was only Thorin who actually did anything about it"

Anna had no reply to that.

* * *

"I was talking to Miss Anna today," Dwalin grinned. Thorin grunted and continued to chew on a particularly tough piece of gristle from his stew. He was sure the halfling had given it him on purpose.

"Oh yes. And?" piped up Balin, in a tone that could only be described as mischievous.

"I think I made some headway," replied his brother smugly, throwing a sly glance Thorin's way. Thorin ignored him, and Balin laughed affectionately at his brother, shaking his head.

"I doubt she'd have you brother, when she could have her pick of the younger ones". Thorin stopped chewing and gave Balin a hard stare.

"Surely not..." he began, but he was interrupted by Oin, who had joined his cousins for the evening meal.

"Oh aye, they all want her; seeing her after that deluge, you know, in those wet things. I suppose it does things to a dwarf who hasn't …ahem…for a long time. Of course, for myself, I'm used to seeing women unclothed, so I guess I'm not so easily affected…Are you alright lad?"

He addressed this latter remark directly to Thorin, who inhaled so sharply at the word 'unclothed' that the piece of gristle stuck in the back of his throat over his windpipe, causing him to choke violently. It took several hard slams on his back from Dwalin's ham like fists before he could breathe properly again.

"We can't have this. I can't have this. This is a serious quest and I will not have it jeopardised by …"

"Oh, put a sock in it" groused Dwalin. "Let the lads have a bit of fun. Things'll get serious soon enough. You're just jealous because you're the only one she doesn't like".

"I am not jealous" said Thorin, rather more forcefully than he meant to and then in a smaller voice, "She doesn't like me?"

"You scare her, laddie", interjected Balin sympathetically. "I know you don't mean to shout, but…"

The rest of his words were lost to Thorin, when Oin casually remarked. "The smart money's on Fili, although Bofur's coming a close second in the betting".

"Bofur?" Thorin shrilled, "but he's a…a…"

"Miner?" Dwalin offered. Thorin shook his head quickly.

"No. A buffoon. I was going to say buffoon. Nori's opened a book on it?"

"Aye", the healer said plainly.

"What're Thorin's odds?" asked Dwalin, with barely concealed mirth. Thorin stared at his kinsman as hard as he could; wishing for once that his old friend wasn't quite such a good friend, so that he could punch him right in his stupid bald face.

Nori, having heard his name mentioned, had started to move over to the group, the better to find out what kind of trouble he might be in. "I'll give you a hundred to one".

"Pfft" said Dwalin.

"Done", said Thorin. After all, he was a prince, an heir to a kingdom and vast wealth. He had surely more to offer than Bofur, or even Fili, who was still wet behind the ears; and even if he wasn't all that plump in the pocket _now_ , and the mountain was still far from reclaimed, his mother had always assured him that he was a fine, handsome young dwarf.


	3. Chapter 3

**Two rather shorter chapters today, and a big thank you to those who've left kudos. It's much appreciated.**

 

CHAPTER THREE

He had turned the tide at Azanulbizar. He had built a prosperous settlement for his folk in the Blue Mountains. He was on a quest to reclaim Erebor. He could do _this_.

Thorin had spent most of the night considering his options. Gloin and Bombur (married already), Oin, Balin and Bifur (too old and too strange) were all out of the running, he felt sure of that, and Dori too. Thorin could not imagine that his mother hen routine would appeal to the woman… Anna, he reminded himself. She was called Anna. That left Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Bofur, Nori and Ori.

Dwalin and Fili were both great warriors, so there was danger from them. Kili was rather strange looking for a dwarf, but then Thorin himself lacked something in that department, despite his mother's soothing words. He was unsure about Ori's appeal, but there was no accounting for a woman's fancies. Nori and Bofur were real dangers. Thorin knew that both of them were popular with the ladies at home, both completely at ease in the company of dams. He would have to use every ounce of his royal bearing, his training and his culture. That was something neither Nori nor Bofur had, both of them rather coarse fellows with dubious origins. Thorin winced a little at the unkindness of his thoughts, but reminded himself that everything's fair in love and war.

He had prepared a charming speech to greet her with that morning, had stayed awake all night composing it. 'Could not talk to women indeed, why, his sister Dis was one of his closest companions.' Although admittedly, she always maintained that relationships were not his strong point. Brushing _that_ thought aside, Thorin strode confidently over to where the woman stood by the embers of the cooking fire, scraping the breakfast bowls.

It was only as he drew close to her that he realised most of the company were close by, packing bags and rolling up blankets. For a moment he was wrong footed, perhaps now was not the time: but he was Thorin Oakenshield, and he had faced far worse than this. Besides the speech was definitely only suited to the early morning, and so he began. Clearing his throat (was he sickening for something?), he began in his best royal voice, the one he saved for Durin's Day festivals, and addressing his halls.

"Mistress Anna, on this fair morning as the sun casts its golden rays around us and fills the world with light and warmth, I am struck by the fact that that celestial orb is naught but a candle to your own splendour, and the beauty that…you cast…before…all…? what is wrong?

The woman flinched, having stared blankly at him throughout seeming only to recognise her own name. Was she simple?

"Thorin, she doesn't speak Khuzdul", he heard Fili say in a small voice.

Thorin blinked, and stared around at the shocked look on the faces of the company as they all stared back at him in the sullen grey light. He hadn't even realised that he was speaking Khuzdul, but of course, all his lessons in rhetoric and diplomacy had been conducted in that language.

The rest of the speech faded fast from his mind, his stomach flipped uncomfortably and his mouth was dry. Perhaps he _was_ sickening for something. He mentally shook himself and tried to rally. There was something at the end about helping her to her mount. His mind went blank. All that came out was "Get on your pony we leave soon", and he turned, almost running to his own. Balin was already astride his; he was slumped in the saddle, shaking his head slightly. Dwalin seemed to be in some kind of pain, judging by his twisted expression and the slight shake of his shoulders. Perhaps they were ill too. Thorin didn't care to find out. "Ride on" he bellowed, though half of the company had not even saddled up yet.

* * *

"And that boys, was your uncle being romantic". Dwalin had finally stopped laughing enough to fill the Durin brothers in on the details of last night's wager.

"Thorin is betting on himself?" asked Kili in a bemused tone. "Is that allowed?"

"How much did he bet?" wondered Fili.

"Ten gold"

"Mahal, he's so tight" moaned his heir and nephew.

"He'd be a damn fool to bet any more judging on that performance" crowed Nori in delight. "The sun's not even out". He burst into fresh peals of laughter, setting Dwalin off again.

Kili was indignant for his uncle. "And what makes you think he can't win?" he fired at Dwalin angrily.

"Lad, I have known your uncle all of my life. We've done everything together. Hunting, fighting, drinking, even whoring; and if there is one thing that is really good about being Thorin Oakenshield's best friend it's this – Thorin _never_ gets the girl."

Fili attempted a laugh, but Kili's sharp look cut him off. "Poor uncle, we have to help him".

"Not me" snorted Nori, and rode off to join his brothers, busily involved in their own hushed conversation about the king's strange behaviour.

"Oh we've tried, lad, we've tried, over the years. Why do you think Balin's hair is so white, though he's not much older than your uncle himself?"

"Oh" said Kili in a quiet voice.

"But, she's human. I mean, shouldn't he be looking for a dwarf?" ventured Fili.

"We've been through every dwarrowdam in the whole of the blasted Blue mountains, and more. Thought we might have found our answer in a certain saucy brunette with an ample bosom and a glint in her eye" said Dwalin cryptically, directing his eyes at an unsuspecting Gloin, riding two or three rows back.

"Really?" the brothers squeaked in unison.

"Oh yes. But Thorin couldn't get any of her hints or…well anyway, she's your cousin Gimli's ma now, so no need to bring all that up."

Fili and Kili both looked like they would like to know much more about _that,_ but it was clear from Dwalin's tone that he would say no more. Kili scowled. "We have to help him Fee, we have to." Fili made a non-committal noise, remembering a sodden dress and pert nipples atop two soft mounds.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Kili was not inclined to let the matter drop. He thought the lass was pretty, and the sight of her in that wet blouse had led rise to some frankly erotic thoughts his mother would've smacked him over the back of the head for. But he loved his uncle, and he knew or rather felt (for really Uncle Thorin would never confide in him something so personal) that he felt his lack of female companionship quite keenly at times. Besides, Kili was proud of his heritage, and he wasn't going to have his uncle cut out of the running by the likes of Bofur and Nori. So as supper was bubbling over the fire he pressed Fili once more.

"There must be something we can do"

"It's none of our business Kili. Uncle's a grown up, and these things are personal…besides"

"Besides you still fancy your own chances"

Fili shrugged. The truth was he didn't really fancy his chances. Everyone knew of Nori's many conquests (except, of course for Gloin.) How much Fili had learned on this journey!

"He needs our help Fili"

"What can we do, Kee?"

"Do about what?" said Ori, joining them unexpectedly. The brothers looked sideways at each other, then Kili decided they needed all the help they could get…

"It's about uncle" Kili began.

"The King?" asked Ori, concern evident on his face. "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes, he needs our help."

"Then I am all ears," the mild scribe responded.

The three put their heads together. "So what we are saying is that his majesty is taken with Miss Anna and would like to …get to know her better" said Ori. "Well, surely this is no problem. The king is a wonderful dwarf – honest, fearless, and loyal. He has only to let her know of his interest, and I'm sure the problem will solve itself".

"Where you not there this morning, laddie"? hissed a voice behind them. Dwalin. The brothers winced, expecting to be upbraided for being so oblivious to their surroundings, but Dwalin merely continued.

"Did you not hear? This is not an orc pack, to be faced down with a blade, or a scheming councillor to be put in his place. This is a woman. Thorin can't talk to females. Just can't handle 'em. I've seen him try and it always ends in disaster."

"Aye", sighed Gloin, gustily. Kili blinked, wondering who else had been listening in to their conversation. "He was after my lovely Nes, you know, back in the day, but she would have none of him. Said he didn't know how to court a dam to save his life. D'ya remember?"

Most of the company fell silent at that, their faces suggesting that they remembered those days rather differently Again, Kili marvelled at how public this conversation had got. Only Thorin, Balin and Gandalf (forming a huddle on the outskirts of the camp), Bilbo Baggins and the subject of the conversation herself, sat on the far side of the fire and whispering quietly, seemed to be oblivious.

Ori thought hard. "Well perhaps we need to do the talking for him."

"What do you mean by that lad?"

"First we find out what Miss Anna looks for in a suitor…remember, she's not a dwarf, and things might be… different… for humans. Then we set about making it look like the king is just exactly what she's looking for."

There was some debate about that, half of the company seemed to think that Thorin might be more successful with someone not expecting traditional dwarven courting, the rest of the mind that if he couldn't manage to charm the ladies of his own race (with the advantage of being a war hero and royal to boot) then his chances with Miss Anna were nil.

"But he'll have all of us to help him", insisted Ori.

Everyone mulled this over, then Bofur piped up, "What if he realises what we're up to? I don't think he'd be too happy about that"

"When is he ever happy?" said someone who sounded suspiciously like Nori, but the others chose to ignore it.

"We'll have to be discreet", mused Ori, in a thoughtful tone.

"I know", said Kili, "we pretend that we are all trying to court the lass, which will draw out his competitive side, but then we stand back and let him take over…"

Dwalin huffed and rolled his eyes. "You're not listening to me…" but was drowned out by a sea of whispering voices "If we could"…"What if "…"I think".

And so it was that, by the time supper was ready, a plan had been hatched, and all those with honour, loyalty and a willing heart were in on it. Which is to say that Nori wasn't.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Miss Anna" said Kili later that evening, as the company sat round the fire, warming their hands and softly farting. "Would you mind telling … if you are agreeable … what is ..."- Mahal, he was starting to sound like uncle - "that is…"

"What do human women find attractive in a man?" interjected Fili, sounding a little impatient, but wanting to rescue his brother (and save the face of the line of Durin. It wouldn't do to have two of them like Thorin).

To a dwarf the company fell quiet, Thorin listening harder than any of them.

Anna seemed stunned. Firstly, at being spoken to directly, as most of the dwarves were friendly enough to Bilbo and her, but conversation around the camp fire was usually restricted to family and close friends, the dwarves rarely moving away from these tight knit groups. The Ri brothers, the Urs and the Durin boys mostly sat together, although occasionally Ori would join Fili and Kili. Oin and Gloin paired up, though they would sometimes join Dwalin and Balin in their permanent vigil at Thorin's side. Gandalf sat aloof from them all, and she and Bilbo were the outsiders - trying to get nearer to the fire and sharing their horror stories of Thorin- like this morning, when Thorin had hectored her in that guttural dwarfish tongue, then ordered her to get on her pony, before flouncing off without further explanation.

Secondly, the nature of the question disturbed her. None of the dwarves had given any indication that they had even noticed that she was female, not once their initial reluctance to accept her company had died down (though never quite gone away, she suspected) so she was thrown by Fili's words; but as it seemed innocent enough, and it was rare for her and Bilbo to be included in the evening chat, she decided to answer as well as she could.

"Well I don't know if I can speak for all women," she began.

"Just you" squeaked Kili excitedly, "what do you find attractive?"

"Well, um, I like…" she faltered a little at the intense concentration on all of their faces, and the piercing stare from Thorin, who looked as if he might put a stop to this inappropriateness at any moment. "Well, I like dark hair". They all beamed at her, making her realise that they were not asking for their own sake's, which she had worried about, the various red and gold and silver heads bobbing up and down in approval. "And a big nose". Balin's smile almost split his face. "Not too big, though" she added hurriedly, revising her earlier thought, but the dwarf continued to grin maniacally. "And he must be able to make me laugh..." there was a soft groan from somewhere to the left… "And be kind and gentle".

She smiled as she looked around at them, and then stopped as she surveyed their crestfallen faces. She thought she heard a gruff voice whisper "Mahal, he's doomed", and one by one the dwarves withdrew their eyes from her face, swiftly resuming their earlier conversations.

Puzzled, she turned to Bilbo. "What was that all about?"

"I have no idea" replied the hobbit, a look of bewilderment on his own face. "Would you like me to try to find out?

* * *

Withdrawing from the others, Thorin walked a little way from the camp, suddenly stopping, his head in his hands. It had started so promisingly. He was proud of his dark locks, and his aquiline nose was a sign of his royal then she said that she wanted a man who could make her laugh.

Thorin thought of himself as a kind dwarf – Mahal knew his folk had told him often enough that he was the kindest of Lords, and he knew that with his nephews and his beloved sister he was as gentle as any dwarf could be. He didn't know why he wanted this girl – didn't know _if_ he wanted this girl – but Balin, who knew better than anyone how his loneliness chafed at him, seemed to think that he did.

And she was human; so unsuitable for a prince of the line of Durin. A prince who had nothing to offer her, a prince on a hair brained desperate quest that deep within his heart he feared would fail.

He too had noticed her femininity as her wet clothing clung to her shapely frame, though he would never have been so crude as to have voiced it. But make her laugh? He didn't have the first idea how to do that. Dwalin was right. He was doomed.

* * *

Nori on the other hand was laughing inside. He had joined the quest largely out of boredom, and to avoid some pressing matters at home. He'd come for Ori too, of course, not wanting to miss the rare opportunity to spend time with his younger brother; and Dori would no doubt need his help.

So far, however, he had been bored. His quick mind, so used to sizing up opportunities, executing devious plans and mapping out escape routes, was squirming with the monotony of day after day tramping across the sodden landscape. The nature of life on the road was beginning to irk. If he had to listen once more to Oin's recipe for the best bunion treatment, or Bifur's lame jokes in mangled Khuzdul, or Gloin enumerating the many charms of his lovely wife (as if Nori did not know them already), he might just go as mad as old King Thror himself. At first he had kept himself entertained by scouting the Halfling and the woman, discerning that the hobbit had a dry wit and a temper waiting to explode; that there was something – alien- about the woman; and that both of them had totally misread Thorin Oakenshield.

Nori knew better than any dwarf that Thorin's bark was worse than his bite, that the dour, snarling prince was not only just, but merciful. More than once had Nori had cause to be grateful for the king's tender heart, and he truly did not have any ill will towards his liege. But Nori was bored, and this was just too good an opportunity to miss. He was going to have fun.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

So it was that the next morning Bilbo found himself at the camp fire next to Nori.

"It looks like it will be a fine day today Mr Baggins," said Nori, "as the sun casts its golden rays around us and fills the world with light and warmth", he added _sotto voce_ , barely able to stop himself laughing, but the joke was wasted on Bilbo who knew no Khuzdul and, like Anna, was totally unaware of the king's embarrassment the day before.

"Yes, yes it is. Although I think it might rain later" replied Bilbo, a little warily. He found Nori difficult to read.

Most of the dwarves were open books. Dori was a fusspot, Ori a darling, Kili was a child and Fili was trying ever so hard to be an adult. Bofur was a charmer, Bombur was content and Bifur – well, Bifur couldn't help it. Oin's knowledge of herbal lore appealed to the plant loving hobbit, and Balin was a learned and cultured diplomat. Gloin was a pompous bore, Dwalin a thug and Thorin- Thorin was just scary. Nori however was a bit of a mystery. None of Bilbo's mild inquires had managed to uncover what Nori's profession outside of the quest was – all were met with evasion and in the case of Dori, downright hostility.

Bilbo knew that Bombur had trained as an architect, and was hoping to use his skills in the rebuilding of Erebor (should they be successful). He knew that his older brother Bofur, a toymaker by trade, had worked in the mines in the Blue Mountains to pay for his brother's training. Oin and Gloin both seemed to be dwarves of independent means, and Thorin, surprisingly, was a silversmith. Bilbo believed that Dwalin, Fili and Kili were also smiths, and that Dori ran a draper's shop. This might be a good opportunity to get to know Nori a little better, and to find out what was behind the bizarre conversation Anna had had with the dwarves the other night.

Bilbo had his own suspicions. He himself was not impervious to her charms; he liked to think that he was as red-blooded as any other male but he doubted that she would be interested in a paltry fellow like himself with all these warriors around, and his inner gentlehobbit would not allow him to think of her except with the utmost propriety. When she had got soaked in the downpour the other day he had noticed her exposure and was making his way over to discreetly bring the problem to her attention when Thorin (who Bilbo was sure had seen exactly what he had seen) had quickly thrown his coat towards her. Putting that thought to one side for a moment, he decided to find out what he could from Nori.

"Mr Nori" he began politely, "we have not talked much together on this journey…" and they began to chat. Bilbo was surprised and a little alarmed to find out that Nori considered himself a professional burglar (although he preferred the term 'expert treasure hunter') and enquired as to how, if this were the case, he, Bilbo, had been hired at all. Nori's face darkened for a moment as he glanced towards the wizard, leaning nonchalantly against a tree as the camp stirred around them.

"Not to worry, Mr Baggins" he said cheerfully. "I am a very adaptable fellow, and a dwarf of many talents. I am sure before the quest is over that Thorin will see my worth." His voice dropped at these last words and he shrugged, casting his eyes downwards.

"Ah, Thorin does not approve of you? Well, I know that feeling", responded Bilbo somewhat hotly.

"Now don't get me wrong Mr Baggins, the king is truly a great dwarf among dwarves. I do not doubt his courage or the purity of his aims" ( and truly Nori did not; he merely wanted to win his bet, make a little money and have some fun at the expense of the house of Durin), "but he is not a kind dwarf, Mr Baggins, he is not a kind dwarf…". The emphasis was on the word 'kind'.

"Ye-e-e-s" mulled Bilbo. "You put me in mind…I mean to say… the other night…" and he asked Nori to explain the strange conversation that had ended as suddenly as it had begun. What he learned caused him to feel no small degree of indignation and alarm

* * *

Anna was struggling to get her bedroll under control and attach it to her pack. Several times it sprang free and she had to start all over again. Glancing across the camp she became aware of Thorin's stare. "Oh no", she groaned to herself, redoubling her efforts.

"Please allow me," chirped a voice behind her, hot breath on the back of her neck. She swung round to find Nori grinning at her.

For a moment she was struck dumb; Nori was not usually one of the dwarves with whom she passed the time of day.

"Why thank you…Nori... that's very kind of you" she smiled.

Just then Kili sprang up, as if out of nowhere. "No, no, I'll do it", he exclaimed, going to grab the bedroll out of her hands.

"Not so fast there, youngster" – it was Bofur- "we wouldn't want those dainty paws of yours getting calloused", he mused with a broad wink in Anna's direction. Kili seemed to take great exception to this and within moments there was pushing and shoving; Fili had joined in, and suddenly fists were flying and the air was full with what she could only assume was Khuzdul fighting talk. Dori scuttled over dragging Ori out of the way, Dwalin broke out into raucous laughter, Gandalf raised an eyebrow and Bilbo went pale. Bifur let out a roar and advanced upon the fighting dwarves with his boar spear pointing dangerously, causing Balin to raise his voice above the fray with a "now, now lads" and a sharp order to his brother to stop being 'a pain in the arse and do something'.

Kili squared up to Nori, eyes bugged in outrage. "What do you think you're playing at?" he accused.

"I was just trying to help the lady…" Nori started, when Fili, now standing behind his brother and looking darkly at Nori cut in.

"We all know what you're trying…"

"Oh come on now lads, everything's fair in love and war", chipped in Bofur earning a glare from the Durin brothers.

"But I thought we'd all agreed" said a puzzled Ori, in a disappointed tone.

"I don't remember agreeing to nothin'", spat Nori. Beside him, Bifur cursed long and colourfully in Khuzdul, his fists clenched. Kili pulled his arm back, as if to throw a punch, but was roughly shoved backwards by an incensed Dori: Nori might not be his favourite brother, but family was family.

At this, Balin thrust himself into the fray, hands on hips, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet, eyebrows raised and lips pursed. "Lads", he said at his most condescending, "Ladies present."

All eyes suddenly turned to Anna, who looked white faced and scared. Under their scrutiny she flinched and stumbled backwards, hitting something solid and almost falling, only to be caught by two large hands on her upper arms. Thorin.

"Enough" he commanded. "We leave in 5 minutes". As a man, the warring dwarves all suddenly turned and busied themselves with their own bedrolls, gear and ponies.

Anna was uncomfortably aware that Thorin was still holding her, his strong hands on her elbows. She gulped, glanced into his startlingly blue eyes, looked away again and began to apologise, not entirely sure what had just happened. "I'm sorry. I don't know what that was all about".

"Miss Anna," Thorin's voice was low and rumbling. She glanced at him again. He let go of her arms and linking his hands together, gestured to her to mount her pony. Without looking at him she gingerly put her foot into his clasped palms, one hand on his shoulder, as he gently hoisted her up.

"Thank you", she whispered, eyes stealing back to him. He nodded curtly, holding her gaze for a second or so, then walked away to attend to his own pony. Anna was surprised to find that her bed roll and pack were securely tied onto the back of hers.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

He could still feel the shape of her foot in his hands and the light touch of her dainty hand on his shoulder. To him she weighed no more than a bird. He could see the look in her eyes as she clambered onto the pony, a mixture of uncertainty, gratitude and fear. 'You scare her'. Balin's words from two nights ago were true. Thorin could not think what he had done to earn such a look. Mulling over the last few days he could only recall speaking to her two or three times, and that was always to express some concern over her well being. He blushed as he recalled his attempt to charm her the previous morning, thanking Mahal that she had not understood a single word, blushing even more as he realised that most of his company had. He knew that, were he not the heir to the crown of Erebor and lord of the Blue Mountains he would have been teased mercilessly. He smiled wryly to himself; his inheritance, so often a burden to him, was something he felt grateful for at the moment.

The incident earlier had unsettled him. Dwarves were an ornery lot and he had expected that there would be some fights within the company along the way. Thirteen dwarves could not travel so far together without a few broken noses and black eyes at the very least. Add a wizard and the cursed Halfling to the mix (both set his own nerves on edge) and you had the ingredients for disaster. But a woman, a woman of the race of men – a young and, dare he think it, pretty woman- was a step too far. He had been inwardly cursing himself for ever listening to the wizard and coming on this fool's errand. Each night he kept himself from sleeping, wondering what they were going to do to vanquish the dragon, should they ever reach the Lonely Mountain: and every time he heard the soft little hobbit bemoaning his tiredness, or the weather, or blithering about putting the kettle on, he cursed the wizard some more. Yet he had only himself to blame for adding a useless, ill-prepared woman to the group.

Once again he asked himself what had he been thinking when he agreed to her request to join them for part of their journey. She was travelling east to seek the counsel of some Elf-Lord, a fact which seemed to interest Gandalf greatly. Thorin inwardly groaned, remembering more of Balin's words of the other night – 'It's my belief that the wizard intends to go to Imladris'. He had once more allowed the wizard (and a pair of soft hazel eyes in a pretty face) to out manoeuvre him. Well, he was firm in his resolve. Neither he nor any member of the company would be setting so much as one foot in the Elven domain. The wizard and the woman could do as they wished. He was done with both of them. He would put her out of his mind as of now.

Fili and Kili pulled alongside laughing loudly at some in-joke, and beaming at Bilbo and Anna.

"Pray, what is so funny?" asked Bilbo, on the edge of politeness, as he feared he might be the subject of their mirth. The hobbit's lack of worldliness and hankering after the comforts of home were all too often the source of amusement around the campfire, and he was sensitive to it.

"We were just talking of our uncle," said Kili, "he is such an amusing fellow"

"Oh and why is that?" Bilbo asked, slightly more politely, but only just, as he had sampled enough dwarven humour to feel that any dwarf described as 'an amusing fellow' was probably one to be avoided at all costs.

"He always tries to be so serious, and ends up making himself look ridiculous" continued Kili, "when we were dwarflings he would sometimes look after us when our mother could not be about…"

"And he would burn the breakfast, said Fili

"And the dinner" added Kili

"Or lose us"

"Do you remember the time we climbed a tree, but you were too frightened to get down…"

"No" said Fili

"Yes. You know, the tree at the end of the large field just near…"

" _I_ was not frightened, 'tis you that was frightened". Fili's voice was becoming slightly belligerent.

" _Any_ way," said Kili ignoring his brother's ire, "Someone ran to get our uncle…"

"Yes, because _you_ were too frightened to get down" said Fili doggedly.

"That's not the point Fee, we're talking about _uncle_ ," huffed Kili, all expressive eyebrows and sideways looks at Anna. Fili looked slightly mollified, but muttered under his breath. His brother ignored him and pressed on with the story.

"Well, uncle came and climbed the tree, but as he got near to the top – for it was a very tall tree, and we had climbed a great height…"

"Which is why you were frightened" Fili interjected.

"As I was saying" growled Kili with a scowl on his face, and starting to look remarkably like the subject of his tale, "When uncle got near to the top, he slipped, and fell down through several branches. He was caught by the seat of his pants, and left hanging there for hours."

"Everyone came running to see such a sight, trying not to laugh, but it was so funny", crowed Fili.

Anna and Bilbo dutifully smiled, but Anna said, "That wasn't very nice, seeing as your poor uncle was only trying to help. Why didn't they help him down?"

"Oh well you see, it was difficult, because he had broken his arm, and no-one could work out how to get him down." said Fili, starting to laugh; Kili was giggling.

Anna gasped. "That's not funny at all. I think your uncle was a very kind man – dwarf- and it was horrible for everyone to laugh when he was just trying to help."

"Well, if you think he is _kind_ , you should tell him so," said Kili, with ill-concealed excitement.

"Tell him? Why, is your uncle among the company?" said Bilbo, as he and Anna cast their eyes about them, wondering which dwarf they were talking about. It had to be someone like Balin, or Oin, the only two dwarves who struck Bilbo as being at all avuncular.

"Why he is indeed Mister Baggins. Can you not see the family resemblance?" asked Fili. Bilbo looked from Fili's sparkling blue eyes to Kili's dark head, the faintest shade of suspicion beginning to form.

"Oin?" he ventured, at the same time as Anna said "Balin?"

"No", laughed the brothers, seeming highly amused at this, "although both are cousins of a sort," Fili added.

"Then who is the poor man – dwarf?" asked Anna. She could see that there was some humour in a dwarf dangling from a tree, but of all the company Balin was one who had been unfailingly polite and kind to her, and she was uncomfortable at the thought of him embarrassed and in pain, whilst other dwarves stood around and laughed (although that didn't surprise her at all).

"Thorin!" cried the brothers, "Thorin is our uncle".

There was a beat, as the Halfling and the woman took this in, and then both of them let out the most tremendous laugh. Bilbo almost fell off his pony holding his sides; Anna was clutching the pommel of her saddle, and tears of mirth streamed down her face. It was some minutes before they quietened down, and realised that both brothers were looking at them somewhat chagrined. They had not thought that the tale would cast their uncle in such a poor light, or that their companions, upset at the thought that Balin might have been the one exposed to pain and ridicule, were so delighted at the thought of the same happening to Thorin.

Anna felt a slight sense of shame, recalling how Thorin had helped her to her horse that very morning, and indeed she still thought that it was bad that the poor dwarf had been left hanging from a tree by the seat of his pants for hours, while all and sundry stared and smirked at his predicament; but the picture of Thorin, usually so aloof and dignified, in such a situation was too much for her. She started to giggle again and then tried to stop herself, to no avail. After several more minutes of this, Fili and Kili were starting to look affronted.

"No, no" she started, fighting back the giggles and losing much of the time, "I am sorry…to la..laugh at your…uncle…Thorin like this. It's just that…" a snort of laughter …"he…Thorin is usually so…" but she could not continue.

"I'm glad you find him so amusing" said Kili coldly, and turned his pony to ride to the back of the line. Fili looked at her, slightly apologetically. "He is a very good uncle to us" he said, and turned to follow his brother.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, it was due to a lethal combination of visiting family and a bit of home decorating.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Anna felt miserable. The Durin brothers were pointedly ignoring Bilbo and her. She knew that they had felt insulted by the laughter, although she wasn't sure why- after all, they had began by telling them how amusing 'Uncle Thorin' was. Still, now that she had almost stopped laughing (for every now and then the image of Thorin in such an undignified position came unbidden into her mind, and set her off giggling again) she felt a little ashamed. He was their uncle and as much as that information had surprised her, since he never seemed to treat them any differently to the others, it was only natural that they should feel a little protective of him. Perhaps she and Bilbo had laughed too hard. She knew that she would not have laughed so much if it had been any other dwarf.

Finishing the last of her stew, which had so little meat in it, it was little more than a soup, she stood up to take her bowl down to the small stream about 30 yards from where they had made camp, offering to take Bilbo's bowl as well. It was dark, but the moon was full as she made her way across the camp and through the small copse that served to hide their camp from unwanted attention. With so many dwarves armed to the teeth all around her she felt safe enough, but almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a figure loom up beside her.

"You should not walk about alone. It is dangerous" grumbled a familiar voice.

"Thorin" she almost squeaked, then, remembering Kili's tale, she looked at him with amusement all over her face, which quickly died as she took in his stern countenance.

He raised a brow as if in question.

"I found out today that Fili and Kili are your nephews" she blurted.

"What of it?" came the short reply.

"Er, they were saying that…you are a very good uncle to them…and…looked after them"

"They are good lads"

Anna felt some surprise and not a little trepidation. She had never spoken to Thorin alone, never had a _conversation_ with him before. Now suddenly they had exchanged several comments and she was starting to panic, because it was her turn to speak next and she simply did not know what to say. The king bent down to the stream; he had three bowls in his hands, which he started to swill, then he turned and looked at her, a question once again in his eyes.

"Oh, erm, yes," Anna started to mumble, making to bend down and do the same with her and Bilbo's. To her surprise, Thorin set down the three he had in a stack, and took hers. Anna stood there awkwardly feeling that she would be much more comfortable doing this herself, and at the same time she should be grateful for Thorin's kindness.

"Thank you."

"Tis no trouble" Thorin rumbled in his deep tone, "but you should not wander from the camp alone. It is always dangerous out in the wild."

This again, thought Anna. "I am sure I am quite safe here, with so many armed men to guard me." She thought she saw Thorin frown.

"Some years ago, Dwalin and I were taken by surprise in this very spot."

"But you are here to tell the tale, which proves my point".

Thorin sighed. "Dwalin and I are experienced warriors."

"Which is why I feel safe".

Thorin looked as if he did not know how to take that comment. He stood up, carrying all five of the heavy wooden bowls easily in one hand. "Even so, I would be happier if you did not wander alone. You did join our company for protection on your travels, did you not?"

Anna seemed about to protest, then nodded her head in acquiescence, and then quietly snorted with laughter.

They had started to walk back to the camp, but Thorin stopped in his tracks. "What amuses you?" he said in genuine puzzlement.

"Oh, um, it was something Fili and Kili said"

Thorin sighed loudly this time. "What did they tell you?" he started walking again, but pulled up abruptly when she said "they told me about the time you got stuck in a tree." He stiffened beside her. She could not make out his face, and suddenly feared she had gone too far. They had almost been getting on well.

After a pause, he said simply. "Which time? The time I broke my arm or the time I fell and knocked myself out?"

"The first" said Anna, in a tiny voice, imagining what must be going through Thorin's mind, then his words struck home. "There was more than one time?"

"There were many. They were always climbing trees, always at Kili's goading for he is very agile and Fili has a fear of heights."

"And you would have to rescue them? Aren't you like, a sort of king? Couldn't you demand that someone else do it?"

"Yes, Miss Anna," said Thorin in a rather tight voice, "I am a _sort of_ king, but most dwarves are not fond of climbing trees, and I am the boys' uncle. Their father is no longer with us. It was- is- my responsibility to look to their safety."

"They are lucky to have such a kind uncle" said Anna, genuinely meaning it. She liked this Thorin, who helped with the washing up and spoke about his nephews. She smiled at him, as he stopped once more.

"We are back at camp", he said then nodded and turned. He took the bowls back to campfire, leaving them to dry, and returned to his post by Balin and Dwalin. Anna's eyes followed him, taking in the presence of Kili and Fili. As Thorin sat down between them she feared that he might take them to task for telling so undignified a story about him, but instead he ruffled Kili's hair and put an arm around each of their shoulders, as they snuggled into him.

"Who would have thought Thorin was an uncle, eh?" said Bilbo, breaking into her reverie. "And a good one, too" she thought, though she did not reply. She was too busy re-adjusting her previous opinion of Thorin Oakenshield.

* * *

Over in the Durin corner of the camp, Thorin was elated. He had followed the woman hesitatingly at Balin and Dwalin's insistence.

"I don't know what to say."

"Just let her know that you are there to make sure she's not in any danger. And don't shout."

"Ask her how her day's been", Dwalin smirked, earning a cuff around the head from his brother.

So he had followed her, knees knocking and stomach churning, his tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth. Make sure she is safe, don't shout, he repeated to himself. He found her down by the stream, silhouetted in the moonlight- he pushed aside the thought of her womanly form revealed by her damp clothing.

"You should not walk alone, it is dangerous". He took care not to raise his voice, but it sounded surly even to him. She turned, startled, and then gave him the most radiant smile. It died as quickly as it appeared, but he was encouraged. Then she started to talk of Fili and Kili. His heart swelled with affection at the thought of his sister-sons, softening his expression. Once again he wished that he had not allowed his sister to talk him into bringing them on this fool's mission. "They are good lads."

She did not reply and he did not know what to say next, so he knelt down to wash the dishes, desperately trying to think of something to say. Nothing came, so again he said, "You should not be here on your own, it is dangerous", trying to keep his voice soft and mentally cursing himself for his clot's tongue. Then she told him she felt safe and he felt a warm glow in his chest. As they walked back to the camp she started to laugh.

"What amuses you?" he said in genuine puzzlement.

"Oh, um, it was something Fili and Kili said"

Thorin sighed loudly this time. "What did they tell you?" he started walking again, but pulled up abruptly when she said "they told me about the time you got stuck in a tree."

Thorin felt himself stiffen. After a pause, he said simply. "Which time? The time I broke my arm or the time I fell and knocked myself out?"

"The first" said Anna, in a tiny voice.

Visions of himself hanging from a tree by his belt, his arm throbbing and every dwarf and dam of the Blue Mountains coming out to see him and offer advice ran through his mind. Not his finest hour, but he could see the funny side of it. In truth, finding himself up a tree, or sprawling on his sister's kitchen floor having tripped over some well placed obstacle (thank you Kili) was much more typical of Thorin Oakenshield than facing down orcs or reclaiming mountains. If she found stories like that amusing she should talk to Dwalin, he had hundreds of them.

She was speaking to him, asking if he was a 'sort of king'. Thorin felt his stomach clench. Yes, he was a sort of king and being a king meant responsibility. He said as much, feeling the tightness in his own voice, feeling he was losing ground again.

"Then they are lucky to have such a kind uncle" she said, and smiled again. Not knowing how to respond to this, he nodded at her and strode back to where his friends and nephews were sitting, conscious of every step he took. He had spoken to her and she had smiled. She called him _kind_. Thorin was elated.


	9. Chapter 9

**And suddenly it all gets a bit angsty. I don't know why. I was writing a comedy. What happened?**

CHAPTER NINE

Nori was thinking hard. He had seen the king follow the woman from the camp, and seen how she had smiled at him on their return. Through lidded eyes he watched as Thorin held his nephews. There was nothing unusual in that for anyone who knew the close bond between the king and the princes. Thorin had virtually been their father, after his sister was widowed and moved back to the Blue Mountains, yet another tragedy to befall the line of Durin. The king had obviously managed to talk to the woman without frightening or belittling her. That _was_ unusual.

Nori felt a small pang of something like panic. Part of him felt very happy for his liege lord. He knew that no-one deserved happiness as much as the Lord of the Blue Mountains did. Nori had traveled in the wilderness with the other refugees. He knew of the hardships and humiliations they had all had to endure, none more so than Thorin, who had seemed to place the well being and happiness of even the most worthless of dwarrow above his own. Nori remembered that it had been Thorin who had seen to it that his mother had coin and food on the table for her dwarflings, once it had been discovered how she had been providing for them, and had scotched the spiteful rumours about Ori's parentage by taking the boy on as a scribe.

On the other hand, if the others were to put two-and-two together as Nori just had, at odds of a hundred to one Nori would be ruined. Why even the king's bet alone would do it. (And only Thorin had bet on himself- dwarfs were not so sentimental as to lose money over their king's love life). Nori had to come up with a plan- and fast.

* * *

Oin had lost his ear trumpet. As nobody could quite stomach the thoughts of all the shouting (his and theirs) that would be necessary for even the most basic levels of communication with their healer, they took several hours break to thoroughly search the area and after that, reluctantly, their packs, in case one of them had packed it by mistake, until Thorin became anxious to move on.

"I was saying that you must have dropped it-DROPPED IT – somewhere along the way…ON THE WAY" Gloin shouted at his brother. This had gone on for several miles and everyone's nerves were starting to fray, Thorin's more than anyone else's; he was keen to keep the quest as quiet as possible and even out here in the Weather Hills, there could be spies. Gandalf had been eyeing several birds suspiciously.

"Gloin. Enough. It is gone and your brother must do without it"

Typical, thought Anna. She had not spoken to the dwarf king since that evening a few days ago, and any small liking she had developed then had faded as they had spent the last few days driven on at a furious pace by his constant barked commands of 'at once', 'keep up' and 'no' (to requests for a break, or a drink or anything else that might be a comfort).

The company moved on. The clouds hung in the sky like grey blankets on a low washing line. There was more rain on the way and everyone felt miserable. Only Nori seemed cheerful, whistling quietly to himself. He pulled up his pony, waiting for the woman, Anna, to draw alongside, and smiled broadly. She returned the gesture rather more tentatively. She wasn't quite sure why, but Nori unnerved her. He had never been anything other than polite and helpful, but there was something at the back of his eyes when he looked at her that she found disquieting. She had never sought his company, and she was only slightly less wary of him than she was of Thorin and Dwalin.

"You were talking to the king the other night" said Nori without preamble, a slight question in his tone.

"Um, yes." said Anna.

"What were you talking of?" he asked baldly.

"Well, er, not much," mumbled Anna, wondering where this conversation was going. These dwarves! She seemed disinclined to continue, but Nori continued to stare at her in an inquiring manner, so she added. "I did not know that Fili and Kili were Thorin's nephews."

"Oh yes indeed. His sister-sons. The Lady Dis that is," Nori added by way of explanation.

Anna could no more imagine Thorin as a brother than as an uncle, but the knowledge that he had a sister intrigued her. "What is she like, Thorin's sister?" she found herself asking.

"Lady Dis? Nori mulled over the image of the princess- plump and pretty with a fondness for sweet cider. "She is proud and haughty like her brother the king", and really Nori only said this because, unlike Gloin's wife, Dis had made it plain that she found his particular brand of charm resistible. He understood that as Thorin's sister and a princess of the Durin line she was expected to live beyond reproach, but as he knew that Dwalin had been ploughing that particular field now for some decades, he was piqued by her rejection. Thorin had no inkling of course, nor the princes and Nori was saving that snippet to himself, against a time when he might need to barter it. He had not lived and thrived so long as a thief without learning the secrets of others and using them to his advantage.

"I can imagine," replied the woman, "but if that's the case, I wonder why Fili and Kili are so…well, I had no idea that they were royalty"

Nori did not reply to this, having seemingly become distracted by something. "Your saddle, "he said suddenly, "it is not quite…" and without finishing what he was saying he leaned over and started to fiddle with the straps. Not liking him so close- what was it about Nori? - she leaned backwards and looked away.

"There, all straight" beamed Nori, and then, as suddenly as he had accosted her, he turned his mount and trotted back to join his brothers.

Later that evening, camped around a fire, their bellies full of thin rabbit stew and hard bread, Anna and Bilbo found themselves once more sitting apart from the rest of the group, talking about their companions.

"Do you find these dwarves rather strange"? Anna began, only to be interrupted by a loud snort from Bilbo.

"Do you need to ask?"

"What I mean is, they keep suddenly appearing beside me and start talking about something completely out of the blue, then just as suddenly disappear. And sometimes I think they are whispering about me, when they think I can't hear."

Bilbo had no doubt _that_ was true, but he had promised Nori that he would not tell ('for I am sore afraid of what the king would do, if he was to find out that I had told you'). Bilbo feared Thorin's wrath himself- he would not expose another to it,but he felt uneasy about the bet, and more than a little outraged on Anna's behalf.

* * *

The next dawned bright and cloudless. Anna sighed, it was going to be hot, and she already stank like a polecat, having not washed since they left Bree. Not only had Thorin scoffed at such a notion; Bilbo had tentatively suggested it when they had camped by the stream, but since then they had not passed by any water, and their supplies were beginning to run low. Hot, sweaty and thirsty, mused Anna with another sigh.

She had barely finished the few mouthfuls of congealed porridge that served as breakfast when Thorin started barking orders. "Come, break camp quickly, we have far to go".

"Aye, come on Oin, we're moving …MOVING" shouted Gloin, a few inches from his brother's ear. Everyone winced; another day of that.

Anna jumped up, grabbing her bowl, and wiping it as best she could with the edge of her sleeve. She could pick the residue off later with her fingers once it had dried. She gathered up her bedroll and blanket, and made a start on folding them, when they were grabbed roughly from her hands. She turned in surprise to find that Thorin was rolling them into a neat bundle.

"Oh, er, thanks…"she faltered, unsure if he was being chivalrous or was just impatient that she was not yet ready for the off.

"We must move quickly "he muttered, not meeting her eye - impatient, then. Anna flushed, feeling useless and indignant all at once. She stood there uncomfortably as he tied off the bundle with a thin leather strap, and bent to put it into her pack, suddenly stopping short and drawing a sharp breath. He turned to her, saying more quietly then she had ever heard him speak, "What is this?"

Anna peered over his shoulder, bemused, then startled, to see Oin's ear trumpet, resting boldly on the top of her things. Anna was struck dumb. She glanced up at Thorin, unable to read the expression in his eyes.

"How did this get in here? He said as levelly as he could, puzzlement and suspicion rising within him. Had he invited a thief into their company?

"I don't know," was the reply from the equally puzzled Anna. At that moment Gloin appeared behind them, to let Thorin know that one of the ponies seemed to be going lame. Casually glancing down at the bag which seemed to have his king and the woman held in thrall, he spied his brother's ear horn.

"Mahal! " He crowed. "There it is, we've looked everywhere for that. How did you come by this?" his voice suddenly turned to a growl, recalling the strain of the last few days travelling with his brother, his mind beginning to form a terrible suspicion.

"I don't know" squeaked Anna, not liking the way things were going. Surely they did not think that she had…

Suddenly Gloin roared at the top of his voice in Khuzdul, bring the whole camp to a standstill. Everyone looked startled then, as he continued to shout, jabbing his finger at Anna, shocked. Bilbo shot a confused look at Anna, who looked pale and scared, as all at once the dwarfs crowded round her, staring at her pack, then back at her, muttering amongst themselves in their harsh tongue.

"Shazara" cried Thorin, and everyone quietened, the atmosphere tense. He turned to Anna, a pained expression on his face. Once more he asked, "How did this get in here?"

The woman shrugged, her eyes wide in mounting fear. "I don't know"

"She stole it!" Gloin shouted. More muttered Khuzdul among the company. Bilbo, who had joined the throng, spoke up in a small voice, "Don't be ridiculous, there must be some other explanation", but he went unheard. Everyone was looking at Thorin, then at Anna, then back to Thorin, jabbering all the time in their incomprehensible language, until Thorin, trying to look calm but not feeling it held up his hand. At once the dwarfs stopped talking. Thorin turned to Anna,

"Wait here" he said curtly, and strode off in the opposite direction, followed by his company.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short!

CHAPTER TEN

"She's a thief!" barked Gloin glaring around at the rest of the company.

"No", said Ori.

"A thief as well as a whore" he repeated, daring anyone to challenge him.

"Gloin!" gasped Balin.

"Who's a what?" asked Oin.

"Oin, you've got your damned trumpet back, listen" snapped Fili. Like most of his fellows, he was shocked and upset at the sudden turn of events. He did not and could not believe that the woman had taken the trumpet.

"Why on earth would she…anyone…want to steal that? spat Kili, just as disturbed as his brother. Everyone began talking at once.

"Silence" said Thorin, quietly and at once all talking ceased. He looked at Balin questioningly.

"Well, it was found in her possession, in plain sight, and we all knew it was missing…so..." he trailed off.

"So?" asked Thorin, sitting rigidly and not quite meeting Balin's eye.

"So, there is a case to answer. "

Dwalin scoffed. "The lassie's no more a thief than I am. We all know what's going on here", he added with a dark look in Nori's direction.

"Oh, that's right, blame me," whined Nori, as Dori burst in with "Now look here Mr Dwalin" and Ori whimpered unhappily.

"We cannot accuse Nori unless we have the evidence to do so," said Balin unhappily, " and at the moment we do not…"

"Hmmph" Nori snorted, leering around at his fellows. "Give a dwarf a bad name and…" but he too seemed to lose his voice, seeing their hostile looks.

"So it was in her bag. How so?" asked Bofur. "It wasn't there the other day when we looked for it. We went through everyone's stuff, do you remember?"

Thorin nodded. It was not in the woman's bag, for he had checked himself, not wanting any of the others to go through her things, knowing what they had been saying and thinking about her. "It was not there, so how did it get in there?"

"It's not like she could conceal it on her… person…" mused Bofur, "her clothes bein' so…fitted an' all"

Everyone thought about that for a moment. Then Thorin shook his head as if to empty it of some unwelcome idea.

"If she didn't take it, then how did it get in her bag, huh?" said Gloin belligerently. Nori nodded wisely.

"Someone must have put it there" said Bofur pointedly.

"Who would do a thing like that?" asked Dori trying to sound disinterested, but he couldn't quite meet anyone's eye, and he was wringing his hands nervously.

"Someone must have put it there" repeated Thorin tonelessly. "But who?"

"Who indeed? said Dwalin, his eyes glued to Nori's. The two stared at each other as they had many times before when something went missing and Dwalin had been called on to track down the thief.

"Who indeed?" repeated Nori, with a smirk which belied his feelings.

He had not thought when he took the trumpet and slipped it into the woman's pack that things would turn so serious. He had only thought to put Thorin in a bad light, and so protect his winnings. He had relied on the king's temperament and dislike of outsiders to do the job for him, but now, as he mused over the situation, he felt slightly nauseous. The penalty for theft was a lashing, more usually commuted to a term in jail, but there was no cell in the wild that could house the guilty. Moreover, as a non-dwarf, her sentence would be more severe. He truly did not want to see her whipped, but knew that none of them would have the stomach for it. They would simply ostracize her and leave her behind as soon as they could. And Nori's money would be safe. The thought cheered him, and he smiled inwardly to himself.

Then Balin said. "Let's find out shall we?"

* * *

Anna sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms hugging them tightly to her and her face down. Bilbo sat beside her, keeping up an almost continuous monologue that alternated between soothing and indignant.

Gandalf stood a little to the side. "Calm yourself my dear Bilbo. Thorin Oakenshield is no fool. Nor is he unjust. He will see reason."

"It is ridiculous..ri-dic-u-lous. What could you possibly want with such a thing? Have they no sense? Well, no of course not, they're dwarfs! As if you would-I can't believe they are even contemplating…"

"What will they do with me? whispered Anna, almost to herself.

"Do? Do? While they'll do nothing, not if I have anything to say about it," Bilbo bristled, his voice rising with his indignation. "The very thought..."

He was interrupted by a polite cough. Balin stood behind him.

"Yes?" said Bilbo, quite rudely. He had really had enough of these dwarfs now.

"If I may, I would like to ask Miss Anna a question," said Balin in his usual kindly tone.

"What about? Bilbo snarled, but Balin had already turned from him to speak to the woman.

"Now lassie, don't be alarmed, I'm sure this is all just a terrible misunderstanding. I just need to clear up one little thing."

Anna let out a sigh of relief at his tone. She knew that Balin was a kindly dwarf full of common sense and she was glad to hear in his voice that he believed in her innocence. She also knew that he had Thorin's ear, and that if anyone could convince the dwarf leader that she had not stolen the ear trumpet, it would be him.

"Please ask" she said.

"Now then," began Balin, "I just need to ask if anyone has been near your pack in the last two days, besides yourself."

Anna thought hard. "No".

Balin sighed. "Are you sure lassie? "

"Well only Thorin…" Balin raised his brows…"This morning, when he helped me."

"I see."

"Is he really angry with me Balin? What will he do?"

"Thorin? Angry? No."

"He looks so…" Anna glanced to where the company sat.

She was horrified to see that they were now completely silent, and every one of them was staring at her. She read their faces; Fili and Kili looked uncomfortable, Ori distraught, Dwalin impassive. Gloin's bluster seemed to have died down and he reddened when he saw her looking at him. She glanced at each of them, but they could not meet her eye. Dori shifted uncomfortably, a pained expression on his face. Only Thorin and Nori seemed able to hold her gaze, the latter smirking. Thorin's face was a mask.

"He looks angry" said Anna.

"You've nothing to fear from the king, my dear" reassured Balin. "Now think hard. Has any one, aside from Thorin, helped you with your things?"

She shook her head slowly, "No. I can't think of anyone, apart from Nori adjusting my saddle, but that was nowhere near…"

"Ah" exclaimed Balin at the word 'Nori'. He drew himself up to his full height (which wasn't far) and shook his head slowly and rather sadly. "Ah. I expected as much. That is all I needed to hear." And with a bow he withdrew to join his fellows.

"Of course, Nori!" Bilbo almost punched the air in triumph. "It must have been Nori".

"Nori?" enquired Anna. Things were moving a little too fast for her. "Why Nori?"

"Because he's a thief!"

"A thief? What do you mean, he's a thief. You shouldn't go around saying things like that."

"No, no he _is_ a thief. A professional thief. Why he told me so himself,

"Nori is a _professional_ thief? " said Anna slowly a look of bewilderment on her face. "And he told you this? Why? When?"

"When he told me about…never mind. This means you're in the clear Miss Anna. And now I've a good mind to tell those dwarfs exactly what I think of them. Nori first." And with that he strode off, leaving Anna feeling shocked, relieved and just a little bit like crying.


	11. Chapter 11

HAPTER ELEVEN

"Mr Baggins, this is a private matter. You have no business here," snapped the king.

"No business here? No business here?" Bilbo parroted, his voice almost a shriek. "Do you have any idea…any idea…what that poor girl is going through? She is not a thief, and to have you all sitting here in judgement, while that blackguard sits there smirking…pah!"

"Pray, Mr Baggins do not upset yourself so." It was Balin, ever the diplomat. "We none of us thought that Miss Anna had taken it", he said in a soothing manner. The dwarfs nodded their heads vigorously. Gloin shifted uncomfortably, and mumbled, "What's a dwarf to think?"

"As Thorin said, it is a private matter. This is dwarven business only. Pray be assured that there is nothing for you or Miss Anna to be upset about."

All eyes turned towards the woman sat in the distance, and there was a collective hiss as they realised she was sobbing. Several of them made to stand up, but were waved down by Balin. "I think the lady could do with your company right now," said Balin looking Bilbo square in the eye.

"Of course," said Bilbo, rather mollified, and turning on his heel he scurried over to her side.

"And now, "said Balin to the assembled company, "what to do?"

"The penalty is clear" said Gloin, feeling guilty and wishing to make amends. He had never been fond of Nori, and was angry that he had made such a fool of himself. "I will do it myself".

"That's Dwalin's job," whispered Kili in horrified tones, aware that Ori had started to cry.

Nori sat with his back straight, his face schooled into a nonchalance he was far from feeling, his chin up and an air of defiance in his gaze.

"Dwalin" said Thorin hoarsely, brushing a hand over his hair in agitation. Dwalin nodded slowly never taking his eyes from Nori's face.

"No" protested Dori and Ori in unison. Thorin looked around the company. Every face was grim, his nephews' eyes wide with fear, Bombur's head resting on his chest, his eyes to the ground. What to do indeed? The penalty was clear, Gloin was right about that and Thorin doubted that Dwalin would feel too squeamish about carrying it out, but he knew that it would damage the company terribly if one of them was to be flogged. He looked to Balin for council, but the old dwarf was looking away, no doubt himself feeling distressed at the thought. What to do?

"Please sir, your majesty", sobbed Ori, as Dori shushed him feeling sick with shame but fearful for his errant brother. "Please don't…"

"Don't worry Ori" piped up Nori in a surprisingly cheerful tone. "I am not afraid" he almost spat the word at Dwalin. "Innocent as I am, I can take the punishment. As I told the lady Dis herself, the last week in February when I found her walking by the inn alone…" he said this with a pointed look at Dwalin, who stiffened. Thorin looked puzzled, wondering what on earth his sister could have to do with this. Dwalin coughed.

"Thorin" he said "A word please" and Thorin nodded, standing up. They retreated some yards from the group.

"It'll go down badly with the lads."

"I know."

"Is there nothing else we can do?"

"Dwalin, he stole something- Mahal knows why- and let another take the blame - a woman, Dwalin. Would you rather flog _her_?"

Dwalin was thinking fast. He knew exactly why Nori had mentioned the princess.

"He has not admitted to it, not in so many words, and without a confession…"

"Yes, you're right." Thorin nodded vigorously; glad of the opportunity his friend had unexpectedly given him. "You never cease to surprise me," he smiled, grasping Dwalin's arm in thanks.

Thorin returned to his men. "As Nori has not confessed to any crime…" there was a collective murmur of surprise, "and nothing can be proved against either party, we will forget this matter and move on"

Gloin looked mutinous; Dori and Ori gasped in relief, and Nori leered at Dwalin. There was a strained silence and then one by one all the dwarfs rose to their feet.

Oin turned to his brother. "My hearing's getting worse" he said. "What was all that about?"

* * *

By now the day was somewhat advanced and Thorin had a headache. His attempt to regain some ground with Anna by helping her with her bedroll had backfired spectacularly. Now the company was divided, half of them not speaking to Gloin and the Ri brothers; the lady herself was in tears which made his stomach clench, and one of the ponies was lame.

"Thorin, that was well handled… I think", said Gandalf, "but it would be best if we all took a little rest to calm ourselves down. Let Miss Anna compose herself." Cursing the wizard for the umpteenth time for bringing them on this foolish quest, he made a decision.

"We have wasted enough time with this nonsense. We press on," he all but growled. There was no challenge forthcoming, although the Halfling looked at him darkly. Gandalf merely raised his eyebrows but said no more.

Steeling himself he approached the woman. "Miss Anna". She looked up, red eyed and wary. He wanted to apologise, to explain, but it was complicated. "You will ride with me", he said, surprising them both with his decision.

For half an hour neither of them spoke. The landscape rolled monotonously by, punctuated only by the occasional sob that still racked the young woman's body. When these had died away, Thorin cleared his throat. "I apologise for all… that. I had no choice when Gloin made an accusation. I am sorry if we have offended you."

She was silent for a moment, and then very quietly said, "Aye. You have offended me, for I am no thief. You scared me too. Why was I not allowed to defend myself?

"It is not our custom to let outsiders encroach on our affairs."

Anna harrumphed in reply. "So it was Nori?" she asked.

"We cannot prove anything".

"And if you could, what would have happened to him?"

"He would have been flogged"

She turned in the saddle to face him, eyes wide.

"No, I would not have had you flogged, "he said. "Miss Anna, please believe that I did not think for one moment that you had taken the damned trumpet."

"You looked very angry with me"

"Not with you. My ire was because I knew that N… one of the company must have taken it, Mahal knows why- probably some silly joke that has fallen rather badly flat."

He was perturbed at this, for he could only think that she had been targeted somehow because of this stupid wager. Well he would put a stop to that as soon as they made camp that night.

They rode on in silence once more and Thorin began to feel uncomfortable. When she had turned to look at him the woman had shifted in her seat, bringing her behind closer to his groin. They were not touching, but as soon as he had noticed it, he had felt a twitch and then a tightening he had not felt for quite some years. _Mahal no_ he thought, glancing downward, his eye catching the curves of her buttocks outlined against the pony's back. He must have moved or made a sound, for she turned once more. "Is something wrong my lord?"

Contact. Thorin definitely made a sound this time, something between a squawk and a whimper, which he deftly managed to turn into a cough. "Just some dust from the road" he gasped, but the jerking movement of his over enthusiastic cough caused him to rub his groin against her. The tight feeling in his breeches intensified and another glance down confirmed his suspicion. Durin's beard! What was he to do? He could not move any further back, it would unbalance the pony. He could not ask her to move, for fear she should guess at his predicament.

"Thorin, er, your majesty", she started to say; turning toward him again, her touch making his loins tingle.

"Yes?" he answered in a strangled tone, but heard not one word of what she said after. The pressure was both unbearable and delightful at the same time. Without noticing he leaned into her, remembering the last time he had been with a woman _._

_It was about 10 years ago, when he and Dwalin had been returning from a trade mission in Dunland. They had struck a good deal and feeling plump in the pocket, had stayed at an inn in Tharbad. As a rather boozy evening had worn on the tavern seemed to fill with whores plying their trade, and Dwalin's eyes alighted on a pretty blonde with a heaving chest and they had soon disappeared to a room at the back of the inn. "All alone dearie?" said a shrill voice to his left. He'd looked up at the woman. She was neither old nor young, neither pretty or ugly. Her nearly naked breasts were in his face. "How much? he whispered, and nodded as she named her price. Soon they too were in a small dank room at the back of the inn, with only a pallet on the floor for furniture. The whore laid herself on the mattress and hooked up her skirt. She was naked underneath and Thorin clambered on top of her, taking what he needed. He didn't last long, and when it was finished he handed over the coin, and she patted him atop his head, as if to emphasise his shortness, and laughed._

"Are you quite well? said a loud voice in his ear. "You're making a funny noise. And there's something digging into my back".

Thorin felt like he'd been slapped in the face. "Um, yes. I'm fine" he grunted, gritting his teeth and realising that the rocking of the pony and the feel of her against him had almost brought him to completion. He could feel that his face was flushed red but he wasn't sure if it was with shame or pleasure. He was not often flummoxed but for now he knew he had to get off the pony and away from her. He pulled up, holding up his hand imperiously and waited for the others to draw near and stop.

"We make camp here" he ordered, to the astonishment of all the seasoned travelers.

"Here?" said Fili incredulously.

"There's no cover"

"Or water"

"And you said we would look for a stream so I could freshen up," said Anna.

"When did I say that"? He asked, momentarily diverted.

"Just now. I asked you and you said yes. You said it twice Thorin, I distinctly heard you."

Grasping her around the waist Thorin lifted her off the pony and almost flung her at Bofur. "I'll scout ahead" he mumbled and kicking the pony's sides broke into a canter, leaving his companions behind in puzzlement.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry it's a bit short. This chapter fought me all the way and i'm not entirely happy with it. Don't worry, I love Nori and he will redeem himself soon. Thanks again for all the reviews, follows and favourites.**

CHAPTER TWELVE

Riding until he was certain he was out of sight, Thorin hoisted himself off the pony and relieved himself with a few hard strokes. He was still adjusting the placket of his trews when he was aware of the beat of pony's hooves, and looked up to see Dwalin approaching. Frozen in embarrassment Thorin watched his friend dismount.

"Dwalin," Thorin sighed, "this whole situation is getting out of hand."

"Aye, so I see" said Dwalin. Thorin stiffened. He couldn't quite meet Dwalin's eye, and decided not to ask him what he meant.

After a few moments of awkward silence they both spoke at once.

"Thorin we need to …"

"How is she Dwalin?"

And then again-

"The lads are talking to her…"

"Move on or make camp, I know".

They caught each other's eye and laughed. Many times in their years of travelling and working together they had read each other's minds, finished each other's words.

"Thorin we can't make camp anywhere around here; what were ye thinking? No, don't answer that, I think I just saw what you were thinking!"

Thorin reddened. "It's been a long time Dwalin, and she was riding right up against me. It happened before I even knew it. After accusing her of theft I couldn't let her see that. I took her on to offer her protection; a fine job I'm making of that so far."

"Don't be blaming yourself. It was all Nori's fault. He's the one we shouldn't have brought; I told you so at the time."

"You were right Dwalin, you always are. I just wanted to give him a chance to prove himself. I don't understand him. What could he possibly have meant by it?"

"Och, he probably saw you talking to young Miss Anna the other night, and panicked. He stands to lose a pretty penny if you win".

Thorin snorted. "This nonsense of a wager has got out of hand. I must put a stop to it. I will speak to him as soon as we find somewhere to rest." Thorin fell silent, lost in thought, then suddenly turned. "And what in Mahal's name was he talking about Dis for?"

"We should be getting back to the others," said Dwalin, the picture of innocence.

* * *

Back at the point where Thorin and Dwalin had abruptly left them, the remaining travelers made an interesting tableau. Everyone sat in kinship groups at awkward angles and distances from each other. A red faced Gloin was trying – and failing- to discreetly bring Oin up to speed on all that had happened; Dori grimacing at every whispered word. Bofur and Bombur seemed to be holding Bifur back from acquainting Nori with the sharp end of his boar spear. Fili and Kili, who had plonked themselves on the grassy undergrowth when their uncle first stormed off, kept jumping up and glaring at the spot where he had disappeared as if by willpower alone they could make him and Dwalin reappear on the horizon. Anna and Bilbo had wandered off a ways until they found a low rock sticking out of the ground which formed a sort of makeshift seat. The wizard nonchalantly took out his pipe, inspected it, sighed at the lack of weed for it, and put it back into his satchel, looking up as Balin approached him.

"Well", said the kindly old dwarf. "This is a pickle and no mistake.

"Indeed it is my friend," agreed Gandalf.

"What to do, what to do? muttered the adviser, half to himself.

"Oh, I find things have a way of putting themselves right if you just let them. Thorin's in the right of it, we should all stop and rest … I'm just not sure that here is the best place to do it."

"Ha, that's Thorin for you. He's not the best at finding the place he's trying to get to."

Gandalf merely smiled at this, recalling Thorin's late arrival the night they had all met at Bag-End.

"And to think, it was my own meat-headed brother that put an end to it. That laddie is full of surprises."

Gandalf nodded.

"Mind you, it's not like Nori not to just talk his way out of a situation like that. Oh aye, normally he can be very eloquent, very persuasive"

"But not his time? Did he make no defence of himself?" asked the wizard.

"No, indeed, he did not. Just started rambling about the Lady Dis and the alley behind the inn at home."

Gandalf looked up sharply, clearing his throat. "I think if we were to walk a mile or two in that direction…" he vaguely gestured with his staff, "we might find a little shelter."

* * *

"Never ever in all of my life have I ever been so ashamed, so…humiliated…"

"Oh shut it Dori" snarled his errant brother. "For one thing, I'm sure that none of that is true and for two, it's not as bad as all that."

"Not bad! That poor lassie was almost flogged!"

"It would never have come to that and you know it. It was a joke, is all."

"A joke in very poor taste!"

"Ah, come on. It was funny seeing Oin without his horn, and Gloin having to repeat everything."

"No it wasn't" muttered Ori, and then quickly closed his mouth as both of his furious brothers rounded their attention on him.

"Problem is Gloin has no sense of humour. Nor Thorin. None of you have. I knew I shouldn't have come on this Mahal forsaken wild pig chase."

"And there's another thing. What did you bring up her highness for?" said Dori, ever a stickler for observing the niceties of rank and title. "You know full well that without her kind words the King would not have tolerated your presence on this…'wild pig chase'"

"Oh, I didn't mean nothin' by it. Just going to point out how forgivin' and understandin' the lady can be." You know, tryin' to soften her brother up."

"You ought to be more careful" said Dori in a rather tight voice, looking Nori straight in the eye, then glancing sideways at Ori in a warning manner. Nori was surprised at that. He hadn't considered his elder brother to be so astute.

"Well at least it worked on Mr Dwalin" beamed Ori, innocently.

* * *

"That little runt should be made to apologise," exhaled Kili, flinging himself to the ground once again.

'"He should be strung up by his toes…" snarled Bofur, walking up behind the princes, and startling Fili, who just about managed to turn a rather girly squeal into an indignant cry

.

"He should be flogged, that's what the law calls for," he added in a crown-princely manner, "I don't know what Thorin was thinking".

"If you ask me, he was going to do exactly that until Dwalin spoke to him."

"Dwalin hates Nori! Whatever changed his mind do you think?

"I don't rightly know" mused Bofur **, "** Nori said something about seeing your good lady mother the princess in the lane behind the inn and then Dwalin takes Thorin to one side and the next thing, there's no case to answer!"Bofur puffed his chest out and his raised his brows, puzzled indignation written across his features. He looked to the princes for affirmation of his consternation.

"I can't see what Amad has to do with any of this" spluttered Kili indignantly, eyeing Fili, who had suddenly gone rather quiet and couldn't quite look his brother or the indignant miner in the eye.

He was recalling a strange encounter he had once had with Dwalin emerging from the buttery of his mother's house in Ered Luin, looking flushed and dishevelled and babbling about being awful thirsty and needing some buttermilk. His mother had emerged just a moment or so later, apparently cold despite the heat of the day, because she was wrapping her shawl across her bosom. He'd dismissed it at the time as nothing. But then there was the time that he'd found Dwalin helping Amad to fix the broken slat on her bed; and the hinge inside her wardrobe door, and he was just beginning to think…

"They're back!" shouted Kili in the overloud voice of one who wanted to be the first to announce something.

* * *

"They're betting on me!"

"Well, not on you so much as themselves…"

"They're _betting_ on me!"

"Yes but, Miss Anna, I'm sure they didn't…"

"And who do they think will win this…bet?"

"I don't know. Nori's running the book, according to Bofur."

"Nori, eh. And am I right, that Nori stands to lose if the favourite 'wins'?"

"I suppose so."

"Bilbo, find out the odds. And get in on that bet. I think we could have some fun with this."


	13. Chapter 13

hapter thirteen

**Apologies for the wait. I hope you enjoy this next installment - Sootybear.**

It was Gloin who finally spilled the beans. Nori couldn't run a book without Gloin's money to back him up, so Gloin was in full possession of all the details. Indeed, Gloin seemed far more eager to tell all than Bilbo would have expected.

It was not that Gloin disliked Nori; merely that there was something about Nori that got under his skin. It wasn't the petty (and not-so-petty) thieving, or the biting sarcasm, or the constant need to lay a bet, to squeeze an advantage out of any situation. It was none of that. It was the fact that Nori always seemed to appear when he was least expected. Walking back from a long day of inspecting his stock of cloth, wine and coal, and re-looking over the profits column of his ledgers, Gloin would often meet Nori coming in the opposite direction, which was strange as Nori lived nowhere near the exclusive enclave of low-roofed, honey coloured houses in which Gloin had settled his beautiful wife and their son. Nori would always make a point of greeting him with an impertinent familiarity despite the disparity in their social standing, and enquiring at length about Nes and the boy.

"To be sure, a warmer, more friendly dam there never was", the star-haired dwarf would gush, and, "Any dwarf would be proud to be the father of such a lad" – and Gloin just couldn't quite put his finger on exactly why those sentiments, which would be perfectly acceptable to him coming from any other dwarrow made him feel like smashing something, when issuing from the mouth of Nori. What's more he owed that slimy, undersized little toad for the whole trumpet debacle, from which Gloin felt he – a respectable business-dwarf- had unjustly emerged as an ill-tempered grudge bearing trouble-maker.

So when Bilbo started to put out feelers among the company about the existence of a bet and was met with feigned puzzlement, real alarm and a uniform silence, Gloin found that the bonds of brotherhood forged through the shared hazards of the journey did not quite hold fast enough when it came to Nori. Besides, he felt sure that Bilbo was not just inquiring for his own sake, and as Gloin was feeling just a little guilty about accusing an innocent young woman of so base a crime, he felt he owed it to her to show that there was no ill-will towards her on his part.

And so Gloin found himself telling all to Bilbo quite readily. It took quite some explaining , as the naive hobbit seemed to understand little about the process, but Gloin was fond of figures, and took great pleasure in spelling out the odds. Bofur was the odds on favourite at 1 / 4, because of his reputation back in the Blue Mountains among the many widows of Azanulzibar and the general belief that he could charm the hind legs off a war pig. Bombur and himself, as the only married dwarrows were out of the running of course, but all of the rest commanded a price. Bifur for his reputation as a fierce warrior (always a winner with the dams) was 25/1, and Dori, with his strong dwarven features and mithril coloured hair was also well fancied. Dwalin's odds were less good at 40/1, due to a combination of his poor manners and his bald pate. Fili as crown prince, young and generally beloved of them all was second favourite at 5/1 with his younger brother on rather longer odds at 13/1 due to his tatty braids and his resemblance to an elf. Even gentle Ori, Balin the cultured diplomat and Oin, his eccentric but well-heeled elder brother were long odds at 66/1. Nori himself, who apparently had something of a reputation as a ladies' man according to the others (it was news to Gloin) looked a good bet at 17/1. Trailing them all as the out and out no-hoper at 100/1 was Thorin, the Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, of the unbroken line of Durin, heir to the vengeance of the dwarves and uncrowned king under the mountain; fearless warrior, noble prince and absolutely useless at talking to women.

"He just can't handle them, he never could. Scared of them see, on account of his mother and his sister- great ladies both of them, oh aye, but sharp tongued and hard to please. It's left him, how can I put it, shy and uncertain of himself. Why when he tried to court my Nes he barely said a word to her, hardly even looked her way. Of course, Nes knew at once that he felt that, as king, he should be the one to be courted, not the one to do the courting, and so she decided to have none of him and his Durin pride," Gloin rambled. "She give him due consideration, naturally, in honour of his position and because of her generous nature. She would have made such a queen! Though I thank Mahal everyday that she preferred me over him. After a few years when it became clear to her that he simply hadn't a clue how to recommend himself, she had to let him down lightly. Fair dues to Thorin he bore it with good grace – he always did have nice manners- and was fulsome in his congratulations when he performed our wedding ceremonies."

Bilbo nodded at this, thinking to himself that it didn't sound as though Thorin had shown much enthusiasm for the lady who he understood from all that Gloin had told him was very beautiful, and from all that Bofur had told him was a little too friendly with Nori.

So now, if I wanted in on this bet, you're saying I should put my money on Bofur?"

"Well he's favourite, so he's more likely to win, but if he does you'll do little better than to recoup your stake. Fili's a more exciting prospect, but the lad might need a little encouragement to move against his uncle."

"His uncle? Do you mean Thorin?"

"Aye."

"And if I was to bet on Thorin…?"

"You'd be throwing your money away, " laughed Gloin, "there's no way Thorin will ever succeed with her. Well you saw how he practically threw her at Bofur this morning."

"But if Thorin was to win…?"

" _If_ Thorin was to win, "chuckled Gloin in sceptical tones, "then you'd stand to win a lot of money and Nori would be in quite a bit of hot water. But seriously Master Baggins," he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "I wouldn't advise you to put your coin on Thorin. Fili's the lad."

"But a hundred to one, Gloin. If I was to put say 25 gold on at a hundred to one that would be…well…a lot of money" babbled the Halfling, with an inane grin on his face. "I daresay that'd easily beat my fourteenth share of the gold."

Gloin looked aghast at the hobbit; he hadn't had much to do with the company's burglar so far, but he hadn't taken him for a simpleton. Well, as his grand dam had been fond of saying, a fool and his money were soon parted, and it wasn't as if Gloin hadn't given him fair warning.

"Would you be paying in cash Master Baggins" he said, making a note to inform Nori of this interesting development later, "or would you be desirous of opening a line of credit?"

* * *

They had finally found a place to camp alongside the stream they had been idly following, as it suddenly bowed out again from a lightly forested area to their west, and pitched their bedrolls just in from the tree line. Beneath the fan like branches of a tall and ancient cedar sat Thorin, flanked by the Fundin brothers and his nephews for moral support. Conversation was sparse, as every topic seemed to be fraught with difficulty.

"I still don't understand why you didn't punish Nori", whined Kili, his head resting lightly on his uncle's knee as he lay on his back surveying the stars and pulling up clumps of grass with his hands. "It was obviously him".

"Yeah," Fili joined in. "How does he always manage to get away with it?"

"I must say Thorin my lad, I'm a wee bit puzzled myself," piped up Balin in a condescending tone. "Thought we had him bang to rights."

Thorin sighed heavily. "I'm not rightly sure myself"…he started, and turned to Dwalin. "Remind me again Dwal, why didn't we?"

"No proof, "said Dwalin curtly, not meeting Thorin's or his brother's eyes. "No confession. Just circumstance and speculation. Wouldn't have been popular neither."

"I rather thought he was about to explain himself, but he'd no sooner started on his defence than you'd cleared him of any wrong doing." Balin spoke in tones of suspicion, but then suddenly turned his head and said in a very different voice, "Brother, I've a need to pass water. Take a walk with me."

The brothers made their way to a hastily dug latrine- Nori's work of course- some yards from the camp. Meanwhile Kili turned his head to look fondly back at his uncle.

"Do you think she's pretty?" he asked _, a propos_ of nothing, and when no reply was forthcoming, "You do think she's pretty don't you. She is pretty…isn't she?"

"Of whom do you speak?" said Thorin stiffly, causing Fili to snort loudly in exasperated disbelief.

"Of Mistress Anna! Who else? There is not another female- dam or woman- for probably hundreds of miles", he practically shouted at his uncle.

"Fili, may I remind you that snorting like an animal is hardly kingly behaviour…" began the king, but his nephews simply ignored him as though lectures on kingly behaviour were commonplace and therefore of no consequence- which was true on both accounts.

"Mistress Anna. Is she pretty?" insisted Kili.

"Well yes" responded his uncle haltingly. "Of course she is pleasing to the eye."

Kili beamed impishly. "What do you like about her?"

"Hmm" said Thorin after a silence that was beginning to grow uncomfortable. "Her hair… her eyes."

Fili rolled his.

"Then why did you push her off your pony?" Kili asked, causing Thorin to suddenly freeze . Memories of their ride that morning flooded back to him - her closeness, the softness of her skin, the tightening of his groin.

"I did not throw her, I merely helped her to alight", he said in a voice which sounded disingenuous even to himself, and caused more incredulous scoffing from Fili.

"Don't you want to win the bet uncle?" asked Kili plaintively.

"The bet will be called off. I should never have allowed it."

"Hmm…" said Fili, seemingly in agreement, but then with a change of tone, "But if you were to win the bet, Nori would suffer…" he trailed off, leaving the thought to hang in the air and ferment a bit. It always took uncle so long to cotton on to things.

"We could help" said Kili, with what he believed to be a winning smile, and was rewarded with a rub of the head from his uncle, always so malleable where _his_ boys were concerned.

"We've already told her what a good uncle you are.."

"Ah yes. The tree story. She told me about that" said Thorin, an amused twinkle starting to form in his eye.

"We're sorry about that uncle", said Fili. "We meant well".

"Ah, no harm. The lady seemed to find it most amusing," countered Thorin, a definite smile on his face now. He loved these lads.

"Oh well if that's the case there's plenty more we could tell her" offered Kili.

"If you do lads, I will never, ever, ever win that bet" grinned Thorin, reaching out to both of them and ruffling their hair, then trapping Kili in a headlock from which his brother rushed to save him – resulting in all three Durin rolling on the floor shrieking like girls.

Quietly Nori watched them from behind a tree. He had had an interesting day, once Dori had run out of steam and shut up. He'd found Gloin's little chat with the burglar quite fascinating, if not a little worrying. He'd listened carefully to what Balin had to say to Dwalin, but that was a concern for later. His last port of call this evening had been the royal family itself. He had been starting to worry a little about the wager, but after this, he would worry no more. Kili had just given him the key to success.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry this took so long and that it's a little short. It fought me all the way.**

"A word, brother", Balin had said, and Dwalin gave him several, many even. He talked of the stillness of the evening, the crispness of the air, the darkening sky, the stars and the mystery they posed. He talked of the journey behind them and the journey ahead; he pondered on the lost beauties of Erebor, mentally cursing Balin for letting him prattle on even though his brother knew that talking was one of his least favourite activities. It was obvious that Balin was punishing him and Dwalin knew why. Still, his brother took his time getting around to it, responding with his own comments on the splendours of the evening, their adventures and Erebor's 'chambers filled with golden light'

At last an uneasy silence fell between them, replacing the stilted and insincere conversation. They had been walking back from the latrine that Thorin had insisted Nori dig when they had stopped to make camp. Balin suddenly stopped and turned to his brother, fixing him with a gimlet stare. Dwalin shuffled uncomfortably, trying and failing to meet his brother's eye.

"He mentioned the princess".

Dwalin's heart dropped, and his eyes with it. He stared at the dark and barely discernible leaves there. Heard them crunching underneath his heavy boots. He hadn't realised his feet were so big before.

"He mentioned the princess and in less time than it takes the Halfling to say 'comfort break', you've dragged Thorin to one side and the case is closed." Balin paused. "Now I know that you're no great friends of Nori's, so I have to ask myself, why?" He said these last words, slowly, in a musing half-whispered voice.

Dwalin squirmed, his eyes rooted to the ground. His vision was adjusting, and he could make out the edges of some of the leaves now, although there was no colour in them, everything was a muddy grey and his feet were just enormous, almost the size of the halfing's. How had he never noticed this before?

"Why?" repeated his brother rather more sharply this time. "Nori had opportunity, he had motive and he certainly has form."

Dwalin opened his mouth, ready to say something about Nori denying the charge but Balin went on. It was open and shut. I don't think even Dori could have complained had we convicted him."

"Balin, imagine if we had, the lads would…"

"Aye, Dwalin, I know it would have been mightily unpopular, disastrous even, to flog a member of the company, but that's not the point. Punishment could have been delayed, commuted. I just want to know"…and he paused here, holding his thoughts until Dwalin reluctantly glanced upwards and caught his eye.

"I just wondered why he mentioned the princess."

"Search me," began Dwalin with the righteous indignity of the guilty, but his brother held up his hand imperiously and interrupted whatever protestations of innocence and ignorance Dwalin might have been about to muster.

"He mentioned the princess, and you convinced Thorin to clear him. Nori! That dwarf couldn't lie straight in bed, "ended Balin on an indignant note, and then softening his voice, "Brother, tell me. What does Nori know about the princess and you?

* * *

The next morning, Thorin gathered the company before him. Everyone's curiosity was aroused, for such meetings were rare- the last one had been at Bree, where they had listened to Thorin's reasons for offering protection to Miss Anna, and before that at Bag End in the Shire.

Dori fervently hoped it was not a resumption of Nori's trial; Bombur, aware how quickly supplies were being used up (especially with an extra unplanned for mouth to feed) hoped it wasn't about rationing. Balin was puzzled and just a little affronted, expecting to be consulted on all decisions. Dwarven politics were not democratic but Balin couldn't recall a time when Thorin had not asked for and followed his advice, and it stung. Dwalin, reading the smirk on Nori's face worried that Thorin knew about Dis, and was about to tell everyone. Bofur, who never had a say about anything they did was just bored; Bifur sun-shining, bee-buzzing, king talking. Kili's attention was caught by Master Baggins and Miss Anna sitting apart from the group, as was their wont. He vaguely wondered where the wizard had got to.

Thorin cleared his throat. "I have gathered you to discuss a matter which closely concerns us all. As you are not doubt all aware, there are currently a number of wagers between us with regards to a delicate matter"…here Thorin paused to clear his throat once more, feeling the colour rise up through his beard and into his cheeks. "It concerns the young woman who is travelling with us."

There was some uncomfortable shuffling and muttering, but Thorin pressed on.

"I know that you all know of what I speak. It is my belief that this wager has led to mischief" – and here he paused to throw a pointed look in Nori's direction, followed by eleven pairs of eyes. Nori affected a nonchalant disinterest.

"This nonsense stops now. The book is closed and all bets are off. Gloin, you will reimburse any monies paid so far."

Gloin nodded sagely at this, although as most punting whilst travelling away from home and hearth was done on credit, and no actual coin had changed hands yet.

"That is all I have to say on this matter. We will break camp. Be ready to move out within the hour."

* * *

Meanwhile, in their camp-within-a-camp, Bilbo was relating to Anna the gist of his previous night's conversation with Gloin.

"The nerve of that pompous blatherskite, "he fumed. "Explaining betting odds to me like I was a child."

"But I thought you were playing ignorant to throw him off the scent."

Well, yes" conceded Bilbo, "but still, the patronising, condescending bore…"

"I've no doubt you're right, but as it happens, it serves our purpose for Gloin to think that you're naïve and for him to convince the rest of these bone-headed nit-wits as well."

"So what's our plan?" asked the hobbit dolefully, rubbing his empty tummy.

"We put a high stake on Thorin while his odds are long, but make everyone think that I favour someone else, then…"

"We must move on" barked Thorin, making both of them jump; he was stood rather nearer than they expected him to be. "Be ready to leave in a half an hour.

Bilbo shot him an indignant stare, Anna merely nodded.

* * *

"I don't understand. Does that mean the bet's off then?" puzzled Kili.

"Only as far as Thorin's concerned," muttered Dwalin. "I've fifty gold riding on Fili"

"Fili? Pffft. She's never even looked at him", hissed Oin. "She'll not be able to resist Bofur once he steps up to the mark."

"Well, since Nori's clearly blighted his chances, I'd like to change my bet" said Dori petulantly.

"Sorry, not allowed" crowed Gloin. "Ask your brother. All bets were made and taken in good faith. You just backed the wrong goat."

"Am I allowed to bet on myself?" asked Bofur, pulling on the ends of his moustache and running his tongue across his teeth as he preened at his reflection in the bottom of Bombur's best steel stewing pan.

"Why not, Thorin has", sniped Nori. He was still uncertain of his standing with the company after the unfortunate incident of the ear-trumpet, and knew from many years of practice that one wormed one's way back in slowly and unobtrusively with comments such as these, until folk forgot that they weren't talking to you, and everything carried on as normal until the next time.

Nori took the sudden burst of laughter that erupted following this statement as confirmation that he was back on track. The laughter died as soon as it had sprung up, quelled by a sharp glance form the king.

"Has he now?" asked Bofur, "What price?" then he burst into somewhat more muted laughter upon hearing the quoted odds. "Mahal, he's really so little fancied? Why I almost feel sorry for him. "

"Well it's not him you need to worry about," said Oin, "Fili's you're nearest rival. Besides, with your odds there's no point"

"Is that so? Bofur missed, almost to himself' "Well, as me old da was fond of sayin', always hedge your bets. I'll take that bet on Fili."

"Well", said Gloin, full of self-importance, it just so happened that Thorin's odds have shortened."

This statement was followed by a furious rounds of nods, winks and hand-gestures, not all of them rude, but all kept well away from the eyes of the king, who had as good a grasp of Iglishmek as any. Gloin wrote it all copiously down in a small pocketbook and Nori worked it all out in his head as the odds shifted. The bet was still very much on.


	15. Chapter 15

The day was long and dreary, like many of those they had passed recently. The sun was higher in the sky each day they had travelled, and since the downpour over a week ago it had become hotter and hotter. It seemed to Anna and Bilbo that the rising temperature did not bother the dwarves, who plodded on stoically beneath their layers of wool, leather and fur, until suddenly a slight altercation broke out between Dori and Ori, whom, it appeared, desired to take off his scarf.

“But it’s hot and tickly” he exclaimed crossly, yanking at the thick woollen knit. 

Dori tutted, tucking the muffler back in as quickly as Ori tried to pull it out. “Everyone knows that too much fresh air is bad for a dwarf, “ he hummed tonelessly and with a little exasperation, as though he had made this particular point so many times, he really ought not to have to make it again.

“Yer brother’s in the right of it”, said Bofur, wiping the sweat from his brow and pulling his hat down more snugly over his head. “Me ma always said, if you spend too much time in the sun yer beard’ll not grow proper’ “.  
Many heads nodded wisely at this iron-cast piece of dwarven lore, accompanied by much hand waving and finger wiggling from Bifur, while Kili surreptitiously pulled his collar up around his chin.

“Well”, said Anna, speaking aloud to the whole group for the first time. “I for one agree with Ori. It’s too hot.” And saying this she pulled the shawl from her shoulders – not in haste as one would who is overcome from heatstroke, nor quickly as one who wishes to draw no attention to themselves, but in a rather seductive way, raising her hands to her shoulders and slipping the fabric from them slowly, bit by bit, pulling down the white blouse beneath as she went, until two creamy shoulders were blatantly on display. Down came the shawl even further, this time to reveal two plump breasts fetchingly covered in a gauzy white which just allowed the faintest hint of skin tone to peer through. If one concentrated hard and screwed one’s eyes up, just so.

Then, without pausing to see how her actions were received she slung her shawl around her hips, tying it just so that the knot fitted snugly over a place that, frankly, no decent dwarf would refer to outside of the walls of a tavern, and then only at night. Paying no attention to the audience she was gathering, as one by one the dwarfs had stopped to see what had caused another to draw to a halt, she smoothed the shawl over her hips and backside, then raised her head to the sun, letting out a great sigh. Putting her hand to her head, she pulled at the ties there holding up her dark gold hair, letting it cascade about her shoulders, glittering like water in a fast-flowing burn. She shook her head, and a collective sigh erupted from the dwarves.   
Picking one of them out with her eyes, she asked in a little girl voice, “Fili, do you think you could help me with my hair?”  
By now all the dwarfs were stopped, but at these words they fell still, mouths agape and eyes bugged.

“Only, it keeps getting in my eyes and yours always looks so neat”, continued Anna, as if unaware that she had shaken the company to the very core.  
________________________________________  
Fili looked like a deer caught in the hunter’s sights, and flushed a deep pink. With a look that could only be described as panicked he cast his eyes to his uncle, but whether looking for help or permission was unclear. Thorin himself stood stock still, trying and not quite managing to drag his eyes away from her form, so alluring in the thin white blouse and tight red shawl. There was a moment, and then another, and then another before Thorin realised that he was being scrutinised by fifteen pairs of eyes: twelve shocked dwarven pairs, the innocent stare of the Halfling, the sultry glare of the woman and the amused twinkle of the wizard. 

There was no strict taboo against touching the hair of another. It happened all the time; in sparring, at the market – dwarfs had lots of hair and sometimes enormous beards, especially the ladies, and one couldn’t always avoid catching a few tresses while brushing past, with beads and trinkets snagging on fur collars and vambraces and the like. It was not forbidden, but it was forward. A dwarf would no more touch another’s hair deliberately then they would put their hand down someone else’s trousers. It would convey the same message.

Thorin knew that Fili had never willingly touched anyone’s hair besides his own, outside of his mother, brother and the king himself. He read the emotions flickering across Fili’s face – shock, triumph, horror, desire, and embarrassment- and realised that the boy would not respond without his uncle’s guidance.

Thorin sighed. There were many things about being King which he found difficult, undesirable even. Remembering names and the faces they matched up to was one. His grandfather had taught him that people took great heart from recognition by their monarch, but it was one of those – many- elements of kingship that came so easily to Thror but eluded Thorin. Sitting through long meetings about dull things was another. He recalled with a shudder a particularly mind-numbing event just months ago in the Blue Mountains involving the Guild of Dwarvish mothers and a dispute about the thickness of woollen yarn. And he still couldn’t work out how Dori was a member of that guild!

The absolute worst thing about being king though, was having to make difficult decisions. Of course, he had plenty of advisers. Dis, for one, was always keen to let him know what she thought of any matter; even more so to let him know of any decision he might take. Dwalin wasn’t above the odd disapproving snort either. Balin like to point out in meticulous detail the snags, hazards and potential backlash of each and all of the options that lay before him, then stand back with a pained expression, ready to wince or grimace as the die was cast, according to the choice made; always followed up with a regretful sigh when Thorin inevitably made the wrong choice.  
Thorin glanced around the company. Fili’s face was a rictus of embarrassment, Dori’s of disapproval. Oin was oblivious, having not heard the girl’s question, and his brother had the puzzled look of one who hadn’t quite caught up on what was happening, while Bofur looked a bit put out that she had asked the Prince rather than him. Ori was redder in the face than Fili, Kili looked jealously at his brother and Bifur was furiously signalling smutty comments in Iglishmek, which seemed to amuse Nori no end. A malicious grin was starting to spread across Dwalin’s face, as he contemplated his best friend and sovereign’s discomfort. Balin, of course, avoided his eye, but his furrowed brow and pursed lips seemed to say, “Be careful with this one Laddie”. 

Thorin sighed again. He didn’t want to offend the woman, but neither did he relish the backlash if he allowed such wanton behaviour within the camp. He would have Balin explain it later, and he hoped she wouldn’t take too much umbrage as he barked, “He is a prince of the house of Durin. He will do no such thing. You must do it yourself.”

He turned on his heel, expecting the others to follow. This they scrambled to do, Oin and Gloin following first, Ori and a laughing Nori being pushed into line by Dori, Kili, then Fili, reluctantly joining them. Dwalin and Balin came next, the latter full of self-importance as he felt sure that Thorin would be needing a lot of advice on this one. Gandalf hummed to himself, an amused twitch to his lips and a twinkle in his eye as he joined the trail. Bifur and Bombur lagged behind, alongside the woman who looked furious. They waited for their kinsman, Bofur, who dallied just long enough to drag his eyes up from Anna’s bosom, and leaning on his mattock, meet her gaze with a cheeky on of his own, and a broad wink as he said,

“Never you mind the king, Miss Anna. I’ll be right pleased to help you braid them pretty locks of yours. Just you wait ‘til this evening.”  
And with another wink he and his family fell in behind the departing figures of the others.

Nori, looking back over his shoulder at the Halfling and the girl as they too hurried to join the end of the line, laughed softly to himself. Bofur’s odds would only lengthen now, although no-one would put good money on him. Fili’s odds would shorten of course as she had chosen him out of all them, to see to her hair, but as Nori had taken him when he was 28/1, so this pleased him no end. But after that display of imperious pomposity, Thorin would obviously never collect on his bet. Nori was safe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this went up yesterday with the last few lines cut off! My apologies


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please re-read the last paragraph of chapter 15, which was posted incomplete yesterday. My Apologies.
> 
> In this chapter, we mostly have dwarves chatting around a campfire!

Later that night around the campfire, Bilbo stared at the crackling logs, his eyes chasing an errant spark as it danced on the slight breeze that had sprung up as the evening fell, along with the temperature. He pulled his jacket more closely around him, and for about the hundredth time since he had so impetuously set out from his warm and well stocked smial, he wished he were at home. _A propos_ of nothing, he found himself declaring,

 

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had a hot meat pie for supper? Or deep fried chicken in breadcrumbs with a barbecue sauce and chunky cut chips, sprinkled with a little sea-salt.”

 

“I fancy roasted lamb sweetbreads with smoked bacon and onion sauce, followed by fig and syrup pudding”…mused Bombur.

 

“With cinnamon custard,” Ori interjected.

 

“I hadn’t finished, “Bombur continued in a firmer tone than Bilbo had ever heard him use before. Indeed, Bilbo could not recall hearing very much from Bombur at all, but the large ginger dwarf continued, warming up to his theme. “Or I’d start with pork fritters and apple compote, followed by roast chicken with potatoes and cabbage…”

 

“Mushrooms stuffed with garlic for me, then a seared breast of duck with a mustard and orange jus,” interrupted Bilbo in dreamy tones.

 

“Cinnamon buns for dessert “gushed Ori.

 

“No, no,” squeaked Kili, “Treacle tarts”…

 

“Ooh, I love those,” said Dwalin

 

“Just like amad makes,” finished Kili.

 

“I’m a dwarf of simple tastes myself,” said Balin hastily. “There’s nothing like pork chops and roast potatoes followed by a lemon sponge and custard”.

 

“Something hot and spicy for me” ventured Nori.

“I’d settle for some of me ma’s dumplings with this…”Bofur stared into his bowl, stirring it in a desultory fashion with his knife… “stew”.

 

“What about you, uncle?” asked Fili, “If you could have anything you wanted to eat, what would it be?”

 

All eyes turned abruptly to the King, sat as he always was slightly apart from the group. Of course, Thorin was used to being asked for his opinion on all sorts of matters and on most of them he could muster up something that would satisfy. This evening, though, he was acutely aware of _her_. He knew that he had upset her, even though he was trying to save her from embarrassment and disgrace. He was an abstemious man, and couldn’t make food sound like works of art in the way that Bombur and Master Baggins could. He was tired and just as sick of camp vittles as the rest of them. He trawled his memory for something he might have eaten when he was a princeling, before Smaug had come and reduced the mountain and his line to ashes.

 

“I remember when I was young, being allowed to attend a feast in the Great Hall at Erebor. It was where guests and foreign dignitaries were entertained. My grandfather’s appetite was failing him, and the head cook…I think his name was Noli… (‘it was’ murmured Balin, his tone nostalgic) ”Noli had decided to concoct something new to tempt him, drawing on his favourite foods. He served up chopped roast chicken in mayonnaise and lime juice, with a combination of spices from the south that created just the most delicious flavour…”

 

“I remember it!” cried Balin, “and it was followed by exotic fruits”.

 

“Oh, aye, from South Gondor and Near Harad they were. Persimmons and apricots,” shouted Oin.

 

“Tangerines”, said Dwalin, wistfully.

 

“Aye”, said Thorin, “but it’s the savouries I recall the best. They gave it a name, what was it now..?”

 

“King’s chicken!” crowed Balin, as one who had just remembered something.

 

“Inventive” said Bilbo, a little snidely, and then feeling mean he added “It sounds delicious”.

 

“It was, reminisced Thorin, with a genuine smile, catching Bilbo’s eye for the first time on the journey without raising an eyebrow or curling his lip. He was rewarded with just as warm a beam back. He was just about to venture a glance at Miss Anna, when Oin, overly loud as always, and somehow missing the indications that the conversation might be moving on, cried

 

“Wasn’t that the night wee Thorin…?”

 

“Aye it was,” Balin finished for him.

 

“Ooh, what was it? Kili asked, “What did uncle do?”

 

“He drank some of Thror’s finest vintage Dorwinion red, though he was far too young for such stuff, and was sick all over his fine new doublet”. The mirth in Balin’s voice was unmistakable.

 

“Och, I remember, “exclaimed Dwalin with glee, “It was all pink with bits of carrot in it…”

 

“Thorin got sent to bed early and cried”, Oin added, as though the story was not quite embarrassing enough.

 

This was enough to make Dwalin snort with laughter, while Fili looked slightly appalled and Kili beamed with delight.

 

“If I remember rightly, you was’nae in great shape yourself brother,” said Balin fondly to his younger sibling, who by now was lying on his back and laughing heartily.

 

“Your Amad gave you what for, as I recall” said Thorin quietly, though his eyes glittered with amusement. “And the next day my father took his belt to me. I don’t think I could sit down for a sennight”.

 

Everyone was laughing by now, except Nori, who was watching the look in the woman’s eyes as she listened to the King’s self-deprecating confession.

 

“Not very dignified for a king, “quipped Bilbo, when he had finally stopped laughing enough to speak.

 

“No, it was not, Master Baggins, “Balin smiled, “ but he was only a prince at the time, and a young one at that, not Kili’s age. He was not yet king.”

 

“Nothing’s changed there, said Thorin dryly, briefly meeting Anna’s eyes. “I’m still only a sort of king”.

 

Recalling her words of a few nights previously, she ventured a shy smile, and was rewarded with a slight twitch of his majesty’s lips in reply.

 

Not wanting to lose her attention, now that he held her gaze he found himself saying,

 

“And you, Mistress Anna, what do you like to eat?” before feeling a hot spike of panic at his own temerity leap up from the pit of his stomach into his throat.

 

All eyes now swivelled to look at the woman. With the cooling of the evening, the red shawl was firmly back in place around her shoulders, well tucked into the shirt which fell to her knees; but her hair still hung in tantalising waves down the her back and framing the oval of her face. There was not a dwarf present who had not thought of running his chubby fingers through those dark tresses, like chocolate shot through with molasses, as Bombur had put it.

 

Thorin did not even hear her reply. He recalled how she had felt pressed up against his groin when they had shared a pony. He pictured her this morning, her shawl tight across her hips, and the time she had got soaked in the downpour, plastering her blouse to her curves and starting this whole nonsense. He had put a stop to _that_ , as he had promised he would, but he could not so easily put her from his mind. She was angry with him, not knowing that he had only spoken so harshly to warn Fili from behaviour that could open her up to all sorts of impertinence. Balin must explain to her. He turned to his old friend, about to command that he do exactly that when Bofur piped up.

 

“Would you still be wantin’ some help with that hair o’ yours?”

 

Not for the first time was Thorin regretting the chivalrous impulse which had led him to offer the protection of his company to a woman travelling alone.

 

“He’s actually doing it!” hissed Dwalin, his head swivelled round as far back as he could turn it, as he watched the retreating figures of the miner and the woman as they moved to a spot just beyond the trees, further from the campsite, but bathed in moonlight.

 

“Ye can’t let that happen Thorin, it’s an outrage,” urged Gloin, alongside indignant cries of “Uncle!” from Fili and Kili. Bombur and Ori both looked aghast. Oin and Balin had been quietly reminiscing between themselves and were just beginning to pick up an air of consternation from their fellow dwarfs. Bifur was supplying the punch line to a joke that was, quite frankly, so filthy Dori didn’t know whether to punch him or Nori, whose obscene grin showed that he found the whole thing most amusing.

 

“Outrage?” asked Bilbo, in a puzzled tone. He got no immediate response, so added in the voice of one who was used to being listened to (‘Yes, actually Thorin Oakenshield. A _very_ well respected hobbit’) “What is an outrage?”

 

“Him…touching her…hair” choked Kili, struggling to get the words out.

 

Bilbo’s puzzled gaze moved around the fire to see anger and disgust in every face. Confused, he asked for clarification.

 

“And what is wrong with him touching her hair?”

 

Everyone fell quiet, as though unable to articulate the shock and indignation they were feeling. It was left to the diplomat of the company to speak up.

 

“Hair is…intimate among dwarfs. We do not touch the hair of another, just as men and…hobbits perhaps…do not touch the skin, or…certain parts of the body.” Even Balin struggled to speak with ease.

 

“Are you telling me…that him doing her hair…is like them..?”

 

“Spooning”.

 

“Petting”.

 

“Swiving”, added Nori, and at this point, Dori could take no more, jumping to his feet and dragging Nori away by the ear for the talking to he’d had coming to him for some time now.

 

“Somebody must tell her, “said Bilbo. “For I know she has no inkling of what this mans. I can assure you, he said firmly, warming to his theme, “that when she asked him for help with her hair she intended no…she was simply…”

 

“What was she thinking?” asked Gloin, who still felt that the woman had been the cause of some loss of face for him, over that matter with the ear trumpet.

 

“Oh dear”, groaned Bilbo, putting his head in his hands, “It was all to do with that blasted bet?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Thorin strode away from the fire with a grim demeanour. He had hoped to complete this journey without having to discipline any of the volunteers who, to follow him, had loyally put their lives on hold, and very probably at risk (although he couldn't foresee too many dangers until they reached the mountain and its fiery guardian). Yet already Nori was on permanent latrine duty and had almost been flogged; now he would have to speak to Bofur. He did not want to be harsh, but the miner was clearly taking advantage of Anna's ignorance of dwarf customs. This would have to be handled with discretion and finesse, so the furrow in Thorin's brow was well warranted.

Recalling what Balin had said about the girl not liking it when he shouted, he decided against barking a command at Bofur, and consciously softened his steps as he approached the couple. The miner had strands of Anna's dark hair in his paw like hands, brazenly running them through his fingers. Thorin fought back a snarl.

"And this bit goes over that one there, like that and then we winds it all up around…"

There was a discreet cough and Bofur froze mid-plait like a deer that had caught a whiff of predator on the breeze.

"Bofur, you are on first watch." The words, though quietly spoken were clearly meant to be obeyed and without question.

Bofur sprang to his feet at once, almost knocking Anna over in his eagerness to obey. He recognised an order from his king when he heard one. He had touched her locks haltingly, feeling his face redden and unable to meet her eye, aware that fourteen pairs of eyes looked on him, twelve of them with animosity. He knew he had transgressed against the mores of his people. He had not expected that the woman would take him up on his offer, and was as stunned as any in the company when she had stood up and followed him away from the fire. Any dwarrowdam worth her salt would've roundly slapped the cheeky grin straight off his whiskery chops. His pride had been piqued when she had turned to Fili for help, like an ageing stallion suddenly scenting a younger challenger. He had been the heartthrob of the Ered Luin for more than seventy years and he had spoken out of bravado and a sense of being ill-used, and now felt like a dwarfling who had found himself goaded into carrying out an outrageous dare that he feared to deliver on. He hurried away without a word or a backward glance.

"But he hasn't finished!" protested Anna.

"Nor will he", said Thorin shortly, wondering what else he could say beyond stating the facts of the issue. Perhaps a helpful suggestion would be welcome. "You can finish it yourself."

These words, if they were meant to mollify, did not have the desired effect. Instead of nodding in gratitude and hurrying to follow the king's advice, Miss Anna took a sharp intake of breath. Her nostrils flared over the curl of her top lip, and the look in her eyes rivalled Fili's twin throwing knives for sharpness. Forcibly reminded of his sister that one time he'd suggested that she might be better off eating less steak and ale pie rather than go to the trouble of letting out all her dresses, he took an involuntary step back. Just like Dis, she seemed to find his advice humorous rather then helpful.

"I suppose you think that's funny?" she accused, finger jabbing in his direction in what could only be described as an antagonistic manner.

For the second time that evening Thorin remembered there was a dragon to be faced at the end of this journey.

"Um. No", said the King under the mountain, sensing danger and wisely deciding to retreat, pausing only to clarify matters by adding, "Stay there, Balin will speak to you", over his shoulder.

Fourteen pairs of eyes watched the king of the dwarves virtually break into a run back towards the fire and flop down in an undignified manner next to Dwalin. Taking just a moment to compose himself, he gave thanks for all the years he had had to bear with being the centre of attention for his ability to speak with complete calmness when he said,

"She…Balin…if you could…she needs…I don't think she understood."

* * *

In his time Balin had been called upon to do some interesting things in the service of his king besides offering the usual advice and counsel: as a youngster he'd had to find a lost but much loved and worn rag doll for a blubbering princeling. He had stood watch while said princeling and his own brother placed an almost full bucket of water atop the half open door of His Majesty Thror's bedchamber and flatly denied all knowledge of it afterwards. He had sat through the tearful aftermath of Thorin's first crush on an amply proportioned dam of a certain age and reputation. Balin had mopped up spilt drinks, swept broken china under carpets and in latter years, soothed an angry Dis on more occasions than he could actually recall. He had even been drafted in by a flustered uncle to explain to a curious but (in Kili's case) rather dim pair of royal nephews, how princelings came to be born ("You put it where?" said Kili incredulously. "I just don't get it").

He should've found a simple explanation of dwarven customs to a green girl a straightforward matter, but somehow he had got off on the wrong foot and was now fending off a string of hostile adjectives which he both feared and hoped were aimed at Thorin rather than himself, for he was sure that _he_ had done nothing to offend the lady.

"Insufferable…unbearable…intolerable…pompous…arrogant…overbearing…" each word was fired like a bolt from one of Dain's cannon, and the lady paced back and forth like an animal in a cage.

"Ach, now, m'dear," interposed Balin as and when he could. "If you're meaning the king..."

"Smug…conceited".

"Thorin's only trying to save your reputation".

Balin had once seen, before the fall of Erebor, a merchant from another land demonstrate the power of a clear yellow fuel he claimed was extracted from the sticky black resin sometimes found in deep mines. When poured over a fire, rather than quenching it, the liquid had caused the fire to leap into the air with a roar, singeing the beards of all around, and earning the stranger a night or two in the cells. He now felt that that display – the talk of Erebor for weeks after- paled in comparison to the roar that emitted from the slight girl.

"MY REPUTATION?"

Later that evening, after his brother had finally stopped laughing and he himself had regained his equilibrium, Balin would tell himself that a dignified retreat was the only possible response when faced with such aggressive and wilful determination not to listen to reason. Admittedly it was hard to maintain your dignity when moving hastily, but he had not 'picked his skirts up and skittered like a dam in a dance hall'. Nor was he a fool, a coward, or a mealy-mouthed word-slinger not worth his salt, and if Dwalin thought that, then Dwalin could speak to her next time. Balin hadn't felt so shaken since the last time he'd told Dis she was 'cuddly'. Indeed, he had always thought that Dis was difficult. Now he was starting to think that perhaps she was just female.

In the end, and to everyone's surprise, Master Baggins had saved the day.

"Oh that's just marvellous!" he'd declared, upon seeing Balin's retreating form hurtling towards them. This was followed by something that sounded half like a snort and half like "Dwarfs!" and with that he strode off towards the woman, muttering under his breath about 'wanting jobs done properly' and 'doing it yourself'.

* * *

"They think I'm a whore," said Anna, horrified, and Bilbo found himself wincing at the unpleasant word.

"Now, now, Miss Anna. They think no such thing and that, once again, is not what I said."

"You said letting someone touch me hair is like me letting them… and I've just sat there being…while they all watched…I can never look any of them in the eye again."

"Let's not get into that again. Please listen to me. They realise that you are unaware of their customs. It is Bofur they are angry with."

"Thorin did seem angry with Bofur".

"He has put him on double watch tonight and second watch permanently." Second watch meant been woken in the coldest ,most tiring part of the night, and then trying to get back to sleep after several hours of trying to keep yourself alert. Anna understood the severity of the punishment.

"And he put Nori on permanent latrine duty for his little escapade". Bilbo wrinkled his nose in disgust. Latrine duty meant not only digging a trench but also raking and covering it after it had been utilised by a horde of uncouth dwarfs on a meat based diet. "Do you know, I am almost starting to think that Thorin is not such a bad fellow after all."

"Yes" she agreed lamely "but now what do we do about the bet"?

* * *

Nori chuckled to himself. It had been a most amusing evening. For a start, he wasn't the 'most -disapproved –of' member of the company any more. That title now resided firmly with his sometime love-rival Bofur, who was vainly trying to stave off a yawn as the first watch of the night moved seamlessly into the second. Even Ori had turned his back on the affable miner when he had sheepishly returned to the campfire, and Dori had made the sort of loud tutting and clucking noises he usually reserved for Nori.

Nori himself was used to going without sleep. Night time was opportunity knocks time when you made your living on the margins of civilised society. He'd enjoyed watching Thorin's and then Balin's encounters with the woman from behind an elderly spruce tree. These Durins had no idea how to handle women. Most interesting had been the conversation _she'd_ had with the halfling. Of course, everyone now knew that _they_ knew about the bet, and Thorin blithely thought that the bet had been abandoned on his orders. Bofur had, of course, blown his chances, and so Nori's prospects of cleaning up completely had gone, but if he could just steer the lady away from this sudden propensity to see Thorin in a good light, and propel her into the arms of their golden prince, he might just stave off the disastrous losses a victory by Thorin would bring. Tomorrow would be a busy day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed it, please let me know.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry it has taken so long for me to update; I hope you haven't forgotten this story. Unfortunately real life has been a bit of a bitch recently and I genuinely haven't been able to work on this. I was hoping that this might be the last chapter, but none of them are co-operating, although our two potential love-birds are warming up a bit to each other. Thank you again to all those who have given this story kudos or  reviewed. I appreciate each and every one of you.

 

Chapter 18

As it turned out, Bofur was not the only one who went without sleep that night. The ground was hard and stony- more so than usual- but normally Ori had little trouble dropping off the moment his head touched the makeshift pillow Dori had fashioned from his spare jacket. He rarely felt the cold, thanks to his brother's crocheted lambswool blanket, and a day of marching across open country at the cracking pace set by Thorin meant that normally he could barely keep his eyes open long enough to help clear away the supper bowls. After the ups and downs of the evening, however, Ori found himself staring at the stars and listening to the shuffling of his fellows. He knew that he was not the only one awake.

Indeed, Fili and Kili were fidgeting like two polecats in a barrel and their hissed cries of "Fee" and "Kee", accompanied by much thumping and kicking as each attempted to be comfortable at the other's expense, were beginning to irritate even the mild scribe. Dori was provoked into several loud huffs of his own and no doubt some spectacular eye-rolls that would be wasted in the darkness. At a particularly loud and elongated 'Fee-e-e-e-…' Gloin sat bolt upright and launched into a ferocious tirade against over-privileged ill-mannered young whipper snappers who ought to have been left at home with their mother. At this point someone, likely Nori, piped up with a caustic "Leave it out will you", but it was unclear which noisy dwarf this was aimed at. There was a momentary silence and then Gloin renewed his angry spluttering, this time at Nori, and Balin was forced to intervene with a tempered "Now, now", which was no more effective than his brother's growled profanities or Bifur's gesticulations.

Bilbo sprang up with an impatient humph and nimbly tiptoed his way through the recumbent forms around the fire, alighting upon the truculent princes with a 'Now listen here you two', much finger wagging, some finger snapping, some prodding, a little fluffing of makeshift pillows and smoothing of tangled blankets. This was accompanied by a few tutted 'well reallys' and 'my words' from the hobbit and some 'it was his fault' and 'sorrys' from the two lads, and in no time at all it was all sorted out.

"Thank you Master Baggins" Balin called out across the now calm darkness. He was as perturbed as any of the others and this was not usual for him. He had been an enthusiastic supporter of bringing Miss Anna with them, perhaps the only one. His long years as a one of Thorin's bosom companions meant that he had immediately recognised her dark hair and fine figure as Thorin's 'type', and since he was a bigger softy at heart than even his hunk of a brother, he had seized the opportunity for a little harmless match-making. He had even defended the lady – Balin was now using that term rather loosely- when others, including the King, had bemoaned her presence. Now he could not sleep for reviewing his conversation with her earlier. This time he managed to make wise and pertinent points in a fatherly manner and his antagonist listened with chagrin, nodding mutely and casting humble looks of gratitude his way, instead of firing back at him with scorn and harsh words. He gently pointed out that females of respectable standing would never have acquiesced to Bofur's suggestion, and Miss Anna's lowered her eyes in maidenly mortification instead of screeching about ridiculous notions and casting aspersions on dwarven sensibilities. His declaration that such unmaidenly behaviour could only lead to humiliation and a loss of reputation - instead of provoking the snarling retort that a group of foolhardy idiots led by directionally challenged and emotionally stunted moron who was picking a fight with a dragon were in no position to talk about reputation - resulted in a grateful clasping of his hands amid some apologetic murmurings and tears.

And with such comforting thoughts smoothing over his ruffled sensibilities, rather as Bilbo had smoothed out Fili and Kili's blankets earlier and barley registering the first fine drops of rain beginning to fall, Balin finally fell asleep.

* * *

As the next day dawned, grey and drizzly, an ill-tempered and fractious assortment of dwarfs and various other beings reluctantly dragged themselves from bed-rolls that had grown warm and toasty in the night, waking up to remembered grudges and disagreements. Conversation was clipped and perfunctory, backs were turned, shoulders were cold and eyes were not met. Gloin and Nori were pointedly ignoring each other, Thorin was as stiff as, well Thorin in a bad mood. Miss Anna glared at any and all who looked her way, and everyone was still mad at Bofur. Of them all, the halfling and the wizard seemed happiest, Bilbo because the events of the previous evening had allowed him to voice several opinions of dwarfs in general and Thorin Oakenshield in particular that he had been longing to give vent to these past few weeks; Gandalf was simply amused, as he always was, by the doings of mortal folk.

Everyone was ready to be off in record time, even the two young princes, who had been hauled out of the sack by a bleary eyed Dwalin muttering something about 'payback', when it was discovered that the same pony had gone lame again. Bifur, who had a canny knack with animals and Oin, who was the only one of the company with any medical knowledge, were of the opinion that it could walk, slowly- Thorin audibly ground his teeth at that- but only if it carried no weight. This meant that one of them would have to walk, which was not an edifying prospect for anyone, the grass being long and the ground underneath sodden from the overnight rain. The only alternative was for two to ride together.

Thorin knew that any of them walking on this terrain would slow them down more than he was prepared to accept, which meant opting for the second choice. Who to put together? The obvious choice was the halfling and the woman, but neither of them was a strong rider, and he doubted either could handle both their mount and a passenger. He could of course ask the hobbit to ride with one of the others. Not Dwalin or Gloin. Thorin could see that Master Baggins regarded both with something that amounted to fear, and besides neither of his cousins would thank him for inflicting the fussy little man on them. Nor would he inflict Oin or Bifur on Bilbo; both were good dwarfs, but they were not easy conversationalists, and Thorin knew that the hobbit like to pass most of his day blathering. Ori was another poor rider. Bombur was way too fat. His nephews could not be trusted not to muck things up. Balin would feel it was beneath his dignity and Nori was just simply a no. He should never have listened to his sister's pleading to allow Nori to join the company, and wondered for the umpteenth time why she had done so. This left Bofur, Dori and himself. The first was out of the question as he wanted the miner, normally so popular, to feel a bit more of the sting of his ostracization. The punishment had to fit the crime, after all. Dori would have to do, though he wouldn't like it. Thorin was just about to issue the command when a tiny thought lurking at the back of his mind filed under 'let's never speak of this again', poked its head out of the shadows, looked around to see if the coast was clear, and then boldly stepped into the limelight and announced its presence. Having checked to ensure that it was not entirely unwelcome, it silenced all other thoughts and took charge of his tongue.

"Miss Anna will ride with me"

Thorin took great care to place a rolled up blanket between his groin and Anna's back, not wishing for a repeat of the events of two days ago. As he sat well back from this and the woman exuded a zone of ice around her that felt about a league wide there seemed little chance of that happening.

For the first mile or two they rode along in a silence that was as tangible as it was impenetrable. Thorin wracked his brain for an opening topic. He had begun his diplomatic training in Erebor, and after a few decades' interruption whilst on the road, it had resumed under the tutelage of Balin Fundinul in the Blue Mountains where there were still human neighbours and warring dwarven guilds to be soothed.

It was useful, he believed, to start with a query into the well-being of one's guest or adversary's family; but he was unaware of any family Miss Anna might have and felt that to start enquiring now might just seem like the sort of autocratic examination he was anxious to avoid. Another gambit was to have on display some artefacts of historical interest to both sides that might generate mutual admiring conversation. Since this was not an option either, he opened with a straightforward

"You are angry with me."

The silence between them swelled, and then collapsed.

"I am not angry with you"

Thorin threw a sceptical glance at the back of her head and asked in a doubtful tone, "No?"

"Not really. A little bit. Mostly I am just…" and now she turned her head back to glance at him, but rapidly swung it back again as she caught his eye. "Embarrassed".

"Don't be."

"Bilbo told me that in dwarven culture…"

"It matters not. You did nothing wrong. If there is any shame to be had it is Bofur's."

There was a short silence as she digested this, and Thorin felt encouraged.

" _You_ seemed angry at _me_ last night."

"Angry? Me? No. Well, not at you. I was …embarrassed."

She turned her head again as he said this and this time, when she caught his eye, she laughed softly, causing him to break into a shy smile. For a few seconds they held each other's glance, then both looked away, but Thorin felt the ice between them melt.

"I knew you would be uncomfortable once the situation was explained to you, and I didn't know what to say" he sighed and then drew in a long breath. "I am not good with words, so I sent Balin…"

"And I bit his head off."

"And sent him running", laughed Thorin, recalling the look of alarm and the quickened gait of his adviser last night; but then he added. "You sent me running too."

Her head was turned towards him now and she was grinning. "I am sorry for that. I was not polite and you did not deserve it."

"No, no," said Thorin. "It is just that I am not good…I do not know how…Dwalin will tell you…I cannot talk to women ", he finished in a quiet voice.

At this the woman laughed out loud, causing heads to turn all along the line, and frantic signalling to quickly shorten Thorin's odds.

"Ha, that is true your highness…majesty…Thorin. That is the right of it. You are a fearsome man to deal with. Perhaps it is because you are a king."

"Merely a sort of king" he added dryly. "No, it has nothing to do with my being a king. My grandfather was a great king, perhaps the greatest king we dwarfs have ever had, and he was as popular among the ladies as Bofur and Nori put together. My sister says that 'relationships are not my strongpoint'".

"Bofur and Nori!" she exclaimed. "They are ladies men?" She thought about Bofur's inane grin and silly hat, and Nori's oily manner, and felt that dwarven women must have very strange tastes.

"Aye", said Thorin, wondering of the rumours about nori and Gloin's wife had any truth to them. He made a mental note to ask Dis, when she found the time to clear her head of Dwalin. It amused him to think that they believed he didn't know.

Anna did not respond to this, having reflected on what attributes she thought might be most attractive in a dwarf, and a silence fell between them that felt not uncomfortable at all.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found it hard to get much humour into this one, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but it helps to move things on. I'd love to know what you think .

 

Chapter 19

Fili and Kili were plotting. They had gone from fighting in their bed-rolls to sleeping in each other's arms, to riding side-by-side, heads together, whispering furiously and pausing every so often to lift their heads and stare intently at their uncle, riding behind the woman and talking to her.

"He's actually doing it Fee ", Kili gushed in a rising tone. "He's talking to her and she's smiling!"

As if to affirm this, the woman's laughter rang out, causing a wave of Iglishmek exchanges that ran up and down the line. Thorin's odds were dropping.

"We should've got in earlier Kee", replied his brother. "We'll get next to nothing back now, if he pulls it off".

"I don't care about the bet, Fili," said Kili mulishly, "this is about uncle. He likes her, I can tell. And no-one deserves happiness more than him."

Fili gave this some thought, images of his uncle running through his mind: swinging a tiny Fili in his arms, singing lullabies, telling tall tales and kissing scraped knees better. They were chased by other picture of raised brows, rolled eyes and the occasional exasperated sighs, but all in all Fili found that he had to agree. Thorin was the best uncle ever. So he put aside any thoughts of possibly capturing the woman's interest for himself (not that it was likely to happen after his lame display the day before when she'd asked him to braid her hair), and tried to think hard about how they could help uncle not to mess this up.

* * *

Nori bit down hard on his bottom lip, thinking. His right hand hung low by his side, the fingers flicking rhythmically to and fro across the pommel of the knife stashed in his boot. Thorin Oakenshield had outwitted him. He needed to get up close to the woman and start with his plan to praise the young prince to her so fulsomely she would have no thought for any other dwarf.

It was a challenge of course, because Fili didn't have a lot to recommend him except his royal heritage and that yellow hair the dams all sighed over. The young scion of the royal family had inherited its curse –the Durin countenance of a long face and a thin nose, and experience had taught Nori that mannish females were more swayed by a pretty face than anything else. Yes, the prince was a passable if untried fighter who knew his way around a forge and could turn out a reasonable blade if put to it, but Nori had always found him a little slow on the uptake. He was well into his eighties and had still not cottoned on that chubby, exiled princesses of lost kingdoms did not require personal guards to fend off unwanted suitors, as the Lady Dis insisted. Not when her brother's scowl could do it just as easily. Mahal knows what other fibs Dwalin and the lady had got away with in that household. Still, thought Nori, if Oakenshield himself hadn't twigged what was happening beneath his long thin nose for the past five decades, it was hardly surprising that his witless sister-sons had yet to realise.

Which thought, though it made him smile to himself, brought him back to his current problem. How to get the woman away from Thorin? Nori thought hard as he rode up alongside the hobbit.

* * *

"Would ye look at that!" crowed Dwalin to Balin, as he directed his brows towards the king and his riding companion. "I cannae believe it. No-one's shouted yet. She's still smiling. Perhaps all those lessons you've given the fool in smooth talking have finally paid off."

"Hmmm." His brother was less enthusiastic, still feeling bruised from the roasting the woman had given him the night before, but Dwalin's delight continued.

"Ach, I should've got in on that bet sooner. Look, he's down to 25/1 now by Bifur's reckoning."

"If Gloin and Nori have any sense they'll close that book now, or take a hammering- which they'll thoroughly deserve, ignoring the king's direct order like that. Durin's beard!"

"Aye" nodded his brother agreeably. "And how much did you have on Fili?"

Balin spluttered for a reply. He was not often lost for words, and very few could pierce his composure, except for the clownish lump riding next to him, with a sibling's knack for saying just the thing to get under one's skin and itch. Balin wished it was a century or more ago, when his brother was still young and wet enough to think that gold shone out of Balin's…well never mind. He was just about to explain why, though it _was_ low to place a bet on such a vulgar challenge, it was also the duty of an honoured and cherished adviser to support the heir to the noble house of his liege lord, when there was some disturbance in the line of mounted dwarves ahead.

* * *

Bilbo was unnerved, as always, by Nori's presence. He had shied away from the wiry dwarrow upon hearing of his chosen profession, and had been giving him the cut direct ever since the incident with the ear trumpet. Being a well-mannered hobbit, he had been driven to such a pass only by the extreme provocation of Nori's behaviour towards Anna, a fellow outsider in this bunch of buffoons, of whom he was growing fonder with each day. So when Nori's mount drew alongside his, and the sly dwarf greeted him with a bold and unabashed, 'Good morrow Master Baggins', Bilbo was non-plussed. He believed that he had made it quite plain that he wanted no more to do with such a fellow. He had at times felt some sympathy for the red-haired thief, who was often on the margins of the group, and even more often at the end of some haranguing tongue-lashing from his fussy older brother. Bilbo now felt that Dori, who had seemed like the worst kind of hobbit – all mealy mouthed, manners and mithering- was in fact a noble soul much put upon by his underhand and duplicitous brother. He flinched at Nori's words, and in doing so he startled his pony, already skittish from having so tentative a rider.

Nori leaned across him, as if to grab the reins, but instead seemed to spook the animal even more, and suddenly Bilbo found himself hurtling through the air, just catching the blur of the pony's pie-bald hide as it galloped past him, and then he hit the ground with a sickening thud. He was vaguely aware of a hue and cry all around him and heard Thorin screeching Kili's name, as the vista around faded from a grainy grey to inky black, and the hobbit passed out.

When Bilbo came to, it was to find that his pony had bolted and got into the river before any of them could catch him; Fili and Kili, who were the best riders and had the fastest mounts had given chase, and nearly drowned. Everyone was sat around in a forlorn circle, the wind beginning to pick up and cause the two soaking youngsters to shiver violently. Bombur looked desolate. It turned out that most of the food supplies were on Bilbo's pony, him being the lightest of them all, and there was very little left to eat. Oin and Gloin could not get a fire going, and everyone looked despondent, except for Thorin, who was white faced with either anger or fear, Bilbo couldn't tell. Probably both, as his fondness for his sister-sons was clear.

* * *

When he had dug Dori's best darning needle into the pony's neck, Nori had only intended to unseat the hobbit and wind him a little, creating just enough reason for a short delay. He needed to get near to the woman long enough to commend Fili to her, which had proved impossible since the halfling had decided to take him in such dislike. And if Bilbo should feel the sharp end of Thorin's tongue for slowing them down once again, well that was all grist to Nori's mill.

However, the pony, already unnerved by the hobbit's inexpert handling had reacted with fear, and as a result one of the major players in Nori's plan was now shivering beneath everyone's spare blankets, his blonde locks lank and dark, sneezing and looking more like a drowned kitten than the Lion of Durin. His brother sat beside him equally miserable. The hobbit was being checked over by Oin who decided that his concussion was too severe for them to continue further today. Thorin didn't flinch at this, so anxious was he for his nephews.

It was less than perfect, as so much of Nori's life was, but a clever villain makes an opportunity where there is none, so Nori waited no further before jumping in with, "So brave, my prince."

No-one seemed to hear this, so he raised his voice. "To chase after our supplies like that – so brave, so selfless" and he stood up, looking directly at Fili, bowing low and murmuring, "at your service".

"What in Arda are you on about?" asked Fili crossly, for he really was very cold and wet. "I was merely chasing after my brother".

A few interested heads turned towards Kili, who looked down sheepishly. "My pony bolted after Bilbo's", he shrugged.

"Well not to worry", boomed Gloin. "Thorin was on hand to save the day."

Bilbo turned at this to look at their dour leader and noticed that Thorin too was soaked to the skin.

"Och, aye" added Dwalin. "You can always rely on Thorin to pull you out of the shite – after he's let your head go under 2 or 3 times."

Nori was watching the woman. She was sitting with a comforting arm around the shaken hobbit, but her eyes flicked from Thorin to Fili to Kili and then back again. He could not read what she was thinking. Unnerved, he tried again.

"Your dedication to your brother is commendable, second to none" and he bowed again in Fili's direction, but his eyes were on the woman who, thank Mahal, was also staring at the prince.

"Well, that's rich" huffed Dori, looking affronted. Ori threw Nori a glare that could have cut glass.

"What I mean to say is, going in like that without a thought…"

"Stupid, that's what it was" Oin offered. "Without Thorin tying that rope to a tree and throwing them a line…"

Nori didn't hear the rest. Well, not all of it, just something about Thorin's shining example of dedication to family, his leadership, his quick-thinking and general all-round dwarven perfection, punctuated by murmurs of 'the best of all uncles' and worst of all a 'very brave' from the lady herself. Nori rubbed his chin. This didn't used to be so difficult.

* * *

Anna's head was whirling. One minute she was just starting to relax against Thorin's broad chest, the next minute she was bumping her head against his chin as it whipped backwards and then forwards again in the flash of an eye, and her ear drums were assailed by a piercing cry of "Kili!" Suddenly she was hurtling across the landscape, Thorin's arms tightening around her waist. Next they skidded to a halt and Thorin was off the pony. He reached up to her, lifting her to the ground as if she were weightless.

"Stay here" he said and before Anna could even make sense of what was happening, he ripped off his coat, and the armoured shirt beneath it, running as he did so, along the embankment of the small river they had been following.

She had realised that Thorin must be very brave and very capable. Everything about him exuded that. She had learned a little from Fili and Kili about how dedicated an uncle he was; now she had seen it for herself. Strange, she had thought so badly of him at first. Absurd as it seemed, she rather thought that Thorin, so dour and taciturn, so judgmental and unrelentingly harsh in the beginning, was actually shy, considerate and, yes, even gentle. She remembered him offering to wash the soiled dishes for her, tying up her blanket and helping her on to her pony, trying- in his clumsy way- to stop Bofur from causing her embarrassment. She thought of the soft warmth in his shy smile. His rescue of the princes – his nephews- was nothing short of heroic. He had not hesitated to put himself in danger, but first he had made sure that she was safe. And now he hovered protectively around the two young dwarfs, alternately chiding them for fools and taking them in his arms. For a long time he held Fili by the shoulders as, eyes closed, they pressed their foreheads together, in what Anna assumed was some dwarven sign of affection.

Anna recalled her words when Kili had asked her to describe her perfect man. Dark hair, a big nose…kind and gentle. She looked at Thorin again, his wet shirt clinging to his form. She had never noticed before how…toned…he was. And the dark tendrils of his wet hair framed his face just so. Could she be falling for Thorin? she asked herself, feeling a little giddy at the idea.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long gap since the last chapter. I really have had a lot of horrible things to deal with, plus a large dose of writer's block.

The Wager Chapter 20

In which Gloin is pompous, Oin is subversive, Bombur is hangry, Bifur is in love, Bofur makes sense and Bilbo gets some good news.

 

As the pale fingers of dawn played fretfully around the dark of the morning sky, two bleary eyed travellers sat hunched over the most meagre of fires.

 

“Aye, we’ll have to go now, and no mistake,” pronounced Gloin, as much to himself as to anyone else. 

 

They had passed a cold and weary night, having made camp early after the tumultuous events of the day before and there was not much cover, nor much kindling: once two princes and a king had been thoroughly dried out. After a heated debate the ponies were turned loose, there being almost nothing left in the way of supplies for them to carry, and although most of them were still nearby, clumped together against the elements in the gloom of the morning, the quest would from this point forward be undertaken on foot. As this would have happened anyway once they had reached the Misty Mountains those voices raised in protest (mainly Nori and the hobbit’s) were soon quietened. 

 

“It was always part of the plan,” he continued, for he liked to explain things in general (and also in particular, especially when the hearer might find said things unpleasant or unwelcome). Gloin prided himself on his endurance, stamina and all-round dwarven worthiness. It satisfied him to think that the weedy Halfling, the sly Nori (and he suspected the younger, spoilt prince) may struggle with the walking and the weather. It was not that he held any ill will towards his fellows, no nothing like that at all; he was all generosity and warmth; but it was always good to know that you were better than others . Add to this a mind like an abacus and an exceptional head for business and you had yourself quite the dwarf! No wonder Nes had been unable to resist him. 

 

“For my part, I’ve always found them fair enough in matters of business, although I’ve no time for those who think you can make friends of elves…”

 

“Fend for ourselves?” said Oin. “Aye, so we shall brother. I’ll eat ma’ beard afore I rely on that coot-headed whelp of Fundin’s to have my back for me”, he growled with a dark under-brow glance in Dwalin’s direction.

 

“Lumber, cloth, ale, even livestock”, persisted the stout banker, ignoring him. “Pigs! I never would have thought it. Pigs and elves!

 

“Digs and delves? Not when I’m around “said Oin. “Never seen him lift ought but a war-axe. Besides, hasn’t the build for a miner. Too tall. Scared of the dark too, when he was a bairn, if I’m remembering rightly. Always get him and the wee prince mixed up. “

 

Gloin frowned at his brother in puzzlement, then suddenly twigged and with the impatient huff of one who is tired of having to explain something for the umpteenth time, snapped.

 

“Brother, how many times do I have to remind you, Thorin is the king now. Has been any time this last century. It was agreed by all seven…”

 

“Pssht”, said Oin. “He’s nought but a young whipper-snapper. It’ll never sit right with me until I see Thrain’s mouldering head with my own two eyes, or touch his cave-cold corpse with…  
”

But what Oin was going to touch Thrain’s cave-cold corpse with Gloin was not destined to discover, for he was interrupted by a quietly coughed ‘Hmmph’, followed by an only slightly louder, “Begging your pardon Mr Gloin” and turned thankfully to see the sheepish countenance of the hobbit.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile at some distance away from the fire, since one of their number was still in disgrace, sat three of Gloin’s fellow dwarves. The youngest of these was feeling quite forlorn, and not a little irritated by his brother’s musing.

 

“It was Nori, I reckon. I’ve been thinking on it all night like, while I was watching, and I reckon it was Nori.” Bofur pulled the flaps of his hat down over his ears for the fourth or fifth time that morning; immediately they sprang back up, leaving his wind-reddened lugs exposed to the damp, cold air. “See, I looks at it like this, right. Who, I asks myself, who is it as benefits?” As he spoke he jabbed his finger in the air in the general direction of his kinsmen.

 

“Benefits from what?” said Bombur shortly. He had not taken well to the news that the supplies were all but gone. He was tired, having sat up most of the night to keep his brother company, and he knew for a fact that Bofur could not have been thinking on it all night, if his snoring was to be believed. Now the ponies were gone, and he was faced with trudging Mahal knows how many leagues across open country until they reached the eleven trading post at Rivendell. Durin’s beard! How could he keep his enviable figure if they had to walk all the way to Erebor? It was fine for Thorin to dismiss the ponies as ‘unnecessary encumbrances’ (how these fine folk liked their jaw-breaking words); he was as thin as a stick and no dam had ever looked twice at him. Even the offer of a crown couldn’t tempt them, albeit one that lay beneath the scorching breath of dragon. Too much more of this quest and Bombur feared he would be just as unattractive as any scion of the royal house. He looked at his brother and repeated, “Benefits from what?”

 

“From the bet of course” said Bofur, in his Blue Mountains’ brogue, grinning as if they hadn’t a care in the world and his brother wasn’t facing imminent starvation and the loss of his many female admirers. “It’d be bad for Nori if Thorin were to win, I reckon, so…”

 

“So how does he benefit?” snapped Bombur, his much-admired stomach gurgling as he pulled his woollen breeks up as far over it as he could, and then shivered. “Because”, he continued, not waiting for an answer, “if that young lady has eyes for anyone other than Thorin after yesterday, then I don’t know anything about young lasses.” He said this with the air of one laying a winning card upon the table, being the proud father of three such young lasses.

 

“See to my way of thinking …” resumed Bofur, biting his nails and ignoring his brother’s poor temper and neat logic. “As I see it, Nori don’t want Thorin to win.”

 

“Well of course he doesn’t want Thorin to win!” exploded Bombur, just catching Bifur’s casually signed ‘your mother dropped him on his head as a babe’. 

 

“Because if Thorin wins, Nori’ll be terribly out of pocket, he will”.

 

“I’m going to find something to eat.” Bombur could take no more and heaving himself first to his knees and then upright, he ventured a small stretch of his back resulting in an uncomfortable click of his spine, before waddling off towards Gloin’s fire in the vain hope that something might be cooking there. 

 

Unperturbed by the halving of his audience Bofur continued, this time in conspiratorial tones, as if this was his and Bifur’s little secret. “You see, Nori reckons Thorin’s got no chance and he takes this wager from him at enormous odds, hoping to see his way to a tidy little sum out o’ the royal coffers, so to say”.

 

He stopped here to ascertain that Bifur had got his little joke, the royal coffers being, at this point in time, only notional coffers, seeing that Thorin was as poor as the rest of them. 

 

“If I’m right – and I think I am –if I’m right in thinking that Nori can’t pay out on that bet, and if I’m also right – and I think I am- that one certain young mannish miss is not so indifferent to our dear king as she makes herself out to be , then, if I’m right…”

 

‘And you think you are’ signed Bifur, possibly the only dwarf in all of middle earth who could achieve sarcasm with just his fingers, then signed for his cousin to please, continue

 

“If I’m right…said Bofur, “then what Nori wants is for our young Miss Anna to see Thorin in a bad light.”

 

This last bit caused to Bifur look at him, astonished, as if Bofur had just spoken of a flying oliphaunt, or a friendly elf. Bifur simply could not make sense of the words ‘see Thorin in a bad light’. 

 

It was not for nothing that the wild haired dwarf bore the scars of a filthy orc blade which had robbed him perpetually of his speech, and many others thought of his mind as well. Bifur was no professional soldier, and although all dwarves could give a good enough account of themselves in a scrap (Bifur was far from an exception to this rule), being from the Blue Mountains he had neither clan ties nor any other reason for being at Azanulbizar. But once, as a small dwarfling, his father had taken him on a journey. They were toymakers by trade, and in search of new markets, his father had made the long trek to Erebor. Young Bifur had enjoyed his first sight of street lights, and mechanised wagons that transported wary passengers at speed between fixed points of interest such as the market places and the royal residence. Somehow his father had managed to obtain entrance to this enchanting place, and Bifur had seen (admittedly from some distance) a royal audience, with Old King Thror, flanked by his son and the prince’s consort, Lady Sigdisa. 

 

Bifur had never forgotten this beautiful lady. Gemstones of all colours sparkled from her brow and fingers. Hair black as Blue Mountain coal fell around her shoulders and her gown of azure silk. She was not, an older Bifur was forced to admit, the epitome of dwarven beauty, with her thin face and sharp nose, but her eyes were as blue as her robe and out-sparkled the diamonds at her throat. Bifur had lost his heart there and then; had never even looked at another dam since that day. He had wept when he heard of her exile from that magical mountain city; he had answered the call to arms sent out by her prince before the gates of Moria, and now he was following her son. When Bifur looked at Thorin, the very spit from his mother’s mouth as Bifur’s da would’ve said, he did not see a rangy, burnt out, disappointed dwarf; instead he saw something of the Lady, something which shone in the dark, a beam of light, small but steady as a rock. For Bifur, unlike Oin, there was no doubt about which head should bear the raven crown of Durin. Thorin was the king he had followed ever since the exiles had come to settle in the Ered Luin, so when he heard the words “see Thorin in a bad light”, he was as baffled as he looked.

 

“Oh, come now,” wheedled Bofur, “even you have to admit he has his shortcomings.”

 

Bifur shook his head vigorously, signalling his undying loyalty to the line of Durin.

 

“You don’ think he’s just a little …short-tempered?” Another vigorous head shake. “Not at all? I mean, look how he treated me an’ I was only tryin’ to help the lady …”.

 

Bofur fell silent under the tirade of his cousin’s furious signing, his fingers dancing like he was trying to hold hot coals in them, and his eyes fit to pop right out of his head.

 

“Yes, yes, of course you’re right. I shouldn’t have said, I shouldn’t have done it, I deserve all I get, but now, wait on… just hold there a minute. I’m not bad-mouthing the king.” Bofur jabbed his finger to his chest as he said this.” Why I love the very bones of him. I do. And I think I’ve thought of a way that we can help him” finished the jovial dwarf, beaming at Bifur.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And what can I do for you, master hobbit?” asked Gloin grinning like a hunter sizing up some easy prey. Master Baggins met his gaze evenly, and the grin faded just a little. 

 

“Well now” said the hobbit, sounding like someone who had been rehearsing his words. “It’s about this wager”.

 

“Indeed, Master Baggins, and what is it you want to say ‘about this wager’?” The grin was back, as Gloin scented greenhorn.

 

“Well,” said Bilbo, then cleared his throat, “what if I wanted to collect on the bet?”

 

Gloin’s eyebrows lifted up almost into his hairline, and then dropped again into a glower. “Master Baggins”, he declared, “I don’t know how things are done in the shire (and from his tone it seemed that he thought they were perhaps done rather poorly), but among Durin’s folk it is customary to wait until one has won a bet, before collecting payment “.

 

“Ah, now, you see, that’s just the thing. I’ve been thinking to myself, and I was just wondering, that is to say… hmmph… I was asking myself… how will I know whether the bet has been won?” The Hobbit blinked and nodded his head once or twice.

“Come again?” asked Gloin, befuddled by the halfling’s roundabout way of speaking. 

 

“What I mean to say is, what does Miss Anna have to do…I mean, what has to happen, in order for us to, you know, declare a winner…decide that Thorin has won. Or Fili, or Bofur for that matter,” he added hastily.

 

“I’m not entirely sure I take your meaning,” said Gloin, who wished the little fellow would come to the point for once instead of huffing and puffing through everything. “If Thorin wins, he wins.”

 

“Ah, but you see that is my point, exactly” said Bilbo, putting a stress on the final word. “I mean to say, at what point do we know that Thorin has, in fact, won?”

 

Gloin, who was never the quickest on the uptake was about to say that he did not, in fact, take Master Baggins point, exactly, and would he please speak plainly like any good dwarrow when Oin chipped in.

 

“She has to kiss him.”

 

“Beg pardon?” said Bilbo, who found Oin’s brogue near incomprehensible most of the time. 

 

“She has to kiss him”

 

“I see, “said Bilbo thoughtfully, adding almost to himself, “So we have to get Thorin to…”

 

“No,” said Oin firmly. “She has to kiss him. Not the other way around. It wouldn’t be decent for Thorin to go around kissing strange dams.”

 

“No indeed!”agreed Gloin in tones of mild outrage. “That wouldn’t do at all. Not for dwarrow. For us, it is always the lady who decides. It took me years before I could get even a peck on the cheek from my lovely Nes.” He paused, and Bilbo was almost sure that he wiped a tear away from his eye. “She is always such a fine lady. She waited years to be certain I was the right one…” and he heaved a wistful sigh as his brother muttered (and not as quietly as Bilbo would have liked), “waitin’ to see if Thorin would bite”

 

“What’s that brother? enquired Gloin, rounding on the old physician.

 

“I was just sayin’, Thorin might. You never know. Seems quite smitten if ye ask me” replied his brother, suddenly realising he was wanted on the other side of the camp, and making his way there with haste as his younger sibling watched his retiring form with a puzzled frown. Neither of the brothers saw the grin on the hobbit’s face.


	21. Chapter 21

The Wager 21

 

Bifur and Oin made an odd couple; one couldn’t hear and the other couldn’t speak much. It might be supposed that communication between two such challenged individuals would be a dead loss, but as a result of their impediments both of them had made it their business to hone their skill in the Iglishmek.

 

All dwarfs spoke it to some degree (except perhaps for those who made their living precariously on the edge of a human settlement, and for whom the sight of a fellow dwarrow was rare if not unheard of); but not all of them spoke it well. No one quite knew when or where this ancient and most secret language of the dwarfs had first arisen. Some said it had been the intention of the Maker that his children would not speak with clever and crafty words as the elves did, their meaning always turning on their sly tongues, and that it was only later, as dwarfs became corrupted by the ways of the world that Khuzdul had emerged, its rigid tones and stiff sounds a guard against the deceit of other folks’ mealy mouths. Others, more prosaically, said the Iglishmek originated between miners and smiths, working the noisy forges and pits of Khazad-Dum and Gundabad. Whatever the origins, the deft movements of hands and fingers were more than just a way of communicating against the deafening clang of hammer against forge. Nor were they as immune to equivocation and nuance as the purists might desire; the almost constant stream of sarcastic comments and bawdy innuendo supplied by Bifur on this journey had made a mockery of that.

 

 For two old dwarfs whose handicaps could often lead to loneliness, the Iglishmek was more than just an invaluable tool during communications, especially when trading with the mannish, or the elves, it was a lifeline that kept them part of their community. Whenever the two found themselves together they would sit companiably and, in almost total silence, quietly exchange the latest gossip and put the world to rights. Many times the good citizens of the Ered Luin would walk by the two and wish them a cheery ‘good evening’, blithely unaware of the cutting comments and withering criticisms which followed in their wake.

 

This particular morning whilst the company was still reeling from the loss of their ponies and supplies, they found themselves together by the fire, both having had enough of their kin-folk for the time being. Since they had now been travelling for some weeks, and since dwarfs when travelling or – well doing almost anything- did so surrounded by close family, _and_ since close family in this case included two of the most stupid and irritating fellows ever born by dwarrowdam, the first topic of the morning was how, in Arda, had two of the most respected and wise dwarfs in all of the Blue Mountains come to be lumbered with such pompous brothers and blabber-mouth cousins. It was at times a heated debate, and Oin was much impressed by the inventiveness and at times sheer beauty of Bifur’s expletives, but eventually they ran out of spleen and, having turned over every foible and folly of their families, were ready to love them again. The conversation turned, as so many had done on this journey, to the matter in hand – the woman Thorin had allowed to travel with the company.

 

‘The maiden looks on the king with favour these days’, signed the toymaker-cum-miner. ‘ I have watched her eyes when she looks at him. Like seeing a diamond’s gleam in the vein, she looks for him to turn and shine at her’.

 

‘I do not doubt it’, signalled the physician. ‘Her cheeks are rubies when he speaks to her’.

 

‘It is my thought that she would follow him to the bottom of the darkest mine but that her heart is hardened against him for his hard words’. Bifur signalled this with a sideways flick of the thumb to indicate that ‘hard’, as in plain and unwavering, was a good and honourable thing.

 

‘Aye’, replied Oin. ‘Like all the mannish she looks for sunbeams in the sky when there is mithril at her feet’ ’.

 

Bifur nodded solemnly in reply. ‘The deepest mines hold the purest gems. We must get her to look down ‘.

 

‘Aye’, said Oin, ‘But how to do that. She’s mannish.’ His whole hand jiggled at the signal for ‘mannish’ which resembled someone trying to shake something unpleasant from their fingers.

 

‘It is not a question of how but when’, was the reply.

 

Oin raised his eyebrow in enquiry.

 

‘Your brother and the thief are spreading the bet. No one doubts that she looks on him with glad eyes. Now they bet on when she will show him.’

 

“Do they think it will be soon?” asked Oin.

 

“The halfing has wagered it will be today.”

 

Oin’s bushy brows shot up to his hairline. “He has her confidence…”, he mused, furiously calculating.

 

“They are laying bets as to the minute”, said Bifur. Oin looked as if he was going to make his way over  to where Gloin and Nori were, now  surrounded by most of the others, clearly haggling over this bet or that. “Not so fast my friend” smiled the injured miner. “I have a plan”.

 

* * *

 

 

“What do you mean, all I have to do is walk up to him and kiss him?” asked Anna, her tone half puzzled, half scandalised.

 

“Those are the conditions of the bet, apparently. You just have to kiss him and we collect,” beamed Bilbo, “it’s as simple as that”.

 

“Simple?” said Anna, in a shrill tone. “What’s simple about that? You seem to be forgetting that it’s not so long ago that neither of us dared to even look at him, let alone speak.”

 

“Hmm, I’ve noticed you don’t seem to have much difficulty talking to him now,” commented the hobbit. “Ooh Thorin, you’re so brave”, he mimicked with a laugh, which died on his lips when he saw the look on Anna’s face.

 

“Well you’re a fine one to talk Mr Baggins!” exclaimed the lady indignantly. “It was your life he saved. You should be ashamed of yourself, plotting against him like this."

 

“Plotting against him? No, no I’m not plotting against _him._ It’s Nori, remember. Nori who made out you were a thief? Nori who I’m almost certainly sure spooked my pony? Nori, who nearly drowned Fili and Kili?”

 

A non-committal grunt was all he got as a reply.

 

“Forgive me my dear” began the hobbit, he’s cheeks begin to redden ever so slightly, “but could it be that you are not as indifferent to Thorin as I first thought?”

 

The girl looked up in alarm at that. “Whatever do you mean by that?” she spluttered.

 

“Oh, you know,” said Bilbo coyly, “I’ve noticed lately that when you look at him it’s not with the same …contempt…yes, I think that’s the word…and fear, yes, let’s not forget fear, that you used to have.”

 

“I’ll admit that Thorin has…grown on me…in the last few days. I think that we might have been…you know, wrong about him.”

 

“So that’s it then. All you have to do is walk up to him and kiss him, my dear girl.”

 

“And just how, my dear hobbit, do you suggest that I do that? Just stand in front of him and say ‘Give us a kiss?’”

 

“Yes. No. What I mean to say…I’m sure you’ll think of something” said Bilbo, sounding a lot less certain than he wanted to.

 

“Can’t I just wait until he kisses me?”

 

“Apparently not. Dwarfs don’t make the first move. It’s got something to do with them having so few ladies…or such fierce ladies” Bilbo shook his head. “I’m not sure which. Sometimes I can’t follow their brogue at all, and Gloin spoke so quickly.” Here Bilbo, paused, as if measuring his next words. “I’ve put all of our money on today Anna. It has to be today.”

 

“All of it?”

 

Bilbo nodded, solemnly.

 

“And Nori stands to lose if I do?”

 

“I do believe he is very worried about it”

 

“Very well”, said Anna. “There’s no time like the present.”  

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

At the same time two old friends were having words.

 

“All I’m saying Thorin is she gave you a ‘look’. I’ve seen that look on a female’s face before, and I’m telling you, she definitely would.” Dwalin grumbled. He had been trying to encourage Thorin that the girl was not so inured to his charms as the King seemed to think for the past twenty minutes.

 

“Oh yes, and when have you seen that ‘look’ on a woman’s face,’ retorted Thorin, who was feeling thoroughly sick of people forever interfering in his private business.

 

“Not a woman, a dam’s” said Dwalin sarcastically and then before he could help himself adding “That first night your s… “ , suddenly stopping as he realised what he had almost said.

 

“The first night what, Dwalin?” said Thorn softly, and if Dwalin hadn’t known better he would have said that his friend and liege Lord was baiting him. There was no reply and instead of changing the subject as he always did when forced to talk about something that made him uncomfortable Thorin continued.

 

“Pray tell me Dwalin. I was unaware that you were so popular with the dams that you were beating them away with a stick. I cannot wait to find out what light the greatest ‘lady-killer’ of the Blue mountains has to shed on the matter of my love life. Do pray tell me, with your vast experience, about that look and that first night”

 

“Och, if ye’re going to be sarcastic about it, you can forget it”, snarled Dwalin, glad to be able to hide his confusion in some mock anger.  That was a close thing. Dis would have his jewels for ear-bobs if he let slip about their cosy arrangement to Thorin. The very thought made the bald warrior shiver. The first lady of the house of Durin had a sharp tongue and even sharper pair of boots. It was not the done thing to hit a female, and Dwalin would never have dreamed of doing so, but he’d had several corking bruises and one small fracture in his shin that could be laid firmly at the door of Dis Thrainsdottir. He’s often thought that with her bulk and her right hook she would have made a much better prize-fighter than a princess. Still, her ability to hold her own in a tavern brawl was one of the things he loved best about her; the thought made him feel warm and soft inside, until he realised that her brother was still waiting for an explanation.

 

Knowing that nothing more than complete honesty would suffice for Thorin, should he start to explain just exactly what he’d meant by ‘that first night’, Dwalin decided to abandon that tactic altogether.

 

“I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this” Dwalin began, with the air of one about to bring bad tidings, “me not being one to repeat gossip and such.”

 

Thorn raised a brow at this, but offered no comment.

 

“I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but it’s the talk of Ered Luin” his friend continued with a gusty sigh and his eyes downcast.

 

“My, my,  Dwalin. If by Mahal’s grace we ever get to Erebor and if by all the Valar we can defeat the drake and drive him from the hoard, I suggest you forget being King’s Guard and try to make a living on the stage”, said Thorin cuttingly.

 

Only slightly deterred by this unpromising start Dwalin persisted. “He’s your cousin and ye’re not going to like it, but…”

 

“He’s your cousin too, if you’re talking about Gloin. And if you’re going to tell me about Gloin’s wife and Nori , I already know”, the King interrupted . “Now please don’t tell me that you were there ‘the first night’ because if you were, for one thing, you should have put a stop to it, and for another…”

 

“You know about Nori and the Lady Nes?” spluttered Dwalin in surprise.

 

“Yes, and…” but the King was interrupted this time.

 

“But you never know about anything – not that sort of thing anyway- people always say when something’s glaringly obvious, ‘even the …”

 

“… ‘Oakenshield can see it’. Yes I’m aware of that too. Indeed my friend- my very good friend- I am aware of many more things than I am given credit for.” Thorin paused to let that sink in as a horrible suspicion passed over Dwalin’s face.  The sight of it was so funny that Thorin broke into a rare grin.

 

Just as he did the lady herself, halfing in tow, appeared before him, catching the full beam of his smile.

 


End file.
